Offside
by malagenabolakaful
Summary: "Four weeks that changed so much, and yet they only brought out what had been there all along." Darvey & the gang watching the world cup together and getting caught up in so much more than just football. watch suits WEBISODE - FOOTBALL RULES before reading.
1. 1 - Group Of Death

_**so, a few weeks ago I was innocently listening to world cup songs and getting in the mood to obsess over football when I was attacked by a demon who put this idea in my head and wouldn't leave me alone 'till I promised I would make a fic out of it. you know who you are.**_

 ** _incase you haven't guessed it yet, this is a story about the suits gang watching the world cup, getting way too invested in it and being a poor example to any other living soul out there. also, harvey and donna are stubborn, blind and stupid, and maybe being overly competitive with each other will force them to admit some things they don't want to admit._**

 ** _just fyi: in this perfect world, jessica, rachel and mike never left the firm, jessica is still managing partner & made donna COO, the zane merger didn't happen, harvey is in his old office and donna has the office next door. everything else happened according to the suits timeline, so we're pre season 8 here._**

 ** _the chapters won't be nearly as long as what you're used to from 120 years, so this fic should be wrapped up after ca. 20k words and 4-5 chapters._**

 ** _finally, I'd really advise you to (re-)watch the suits_** **webisode: football rules** ** _before reading because it's essentially the thing that starts the plot right at the beginning. also, it's hilarious and you will die laughing._**

 ** _have fun reading xx_**

 ** _P._**

* * *

 _"Football, bloody hell." – Alex Ferguson_

* * *

 **#1: Group Of Death**

.

It all started with Louis.

That's what Harvey and Mike would insist on the second it was all over; the second these four weeks smoothly went from one of their most intense events to an incredible set of fond memories they would think back on for the rest of their lives.

Four weeks that changed so much, and yet they only brought out what had been there all along.

 _Louis_ was the one to go overboard and learn every single football rule there was, only to be laughed out of the room when he realised their new, huge client was British, and had been talking about soccer all along.

Like Mike said, this was all just fun for Harvey, a way for him to pass the time and fight boredom, but it became slightly less funny when he had to face the grave consequences. Louis stormed into his office the second he got out of the meeting, near tears and so angry he was shaking.

"Taylor Jones is British", he yelled.

"Didn't you know that?", Harvey asked innocently, glancing over at Mike who was spread out over the armchair like a lazy cat.

"Don't give me that shit, Harvey, you know damn well I just blew my first meeting with him because I kept talking about _American_ football."

Harvey frowned. "Hang on, are you telling me you screwed up our negotiations because of that? The deal was airtight."

Mike sat up on the chair, all humour in his eyes gone.

"Well, he didn't exactly find it funny that I kept going on and on about a sport he had no interest in, let alone me asking him if England even has a proper team since I had never heard of it."

Harvey closed his eyes. "Are you telling me he pulled out?"

"He _stormed_ out, but not without warning me about the displeased phone call Jessica will get."

"Shit", Harvey groaned. "Goddamn Brits."

"This is all your fault! You didn't even show up for the meeting, too busy twiddling your thumbs and laughing at me instead of thinking of what damage your childish pranks might cause this firm."

"Alright calm down, Louis. We couldn't have known he'd be that insulted just because you didn't know the difference between our football and theirs."

"We could've, actually", Mike threw in. "Have you ever met a Brit? Or any European for that matter? They go nuts over soccer there, it's the one sport that matters."

"Well, then it's not our fault they've decided to go nuts over such a shitty sport."

"You're only saying that because you know nothing about football", Donna interjected, joining the three men in Harvey's office with quick steps. She met his tense eyes. "Incoming."

Harvey cursed. "Jessica's on her way", he explained to Mike and Louis.

"How in the world did you blow this deal, Louis?", Donna asked without any accusation. "It was basically already through."

"Yeah it was, until dumb and dumber dicked me over for their amusement."

Before Donna could do more than throw Harvey and Mike a disapproving glare, Jessica strolled around the corner, approaching the group with long steps.

"Uh-oh", Mike muttered. "She looks pissed."

Louis swallowed. "Rightfully so. She spent months setting up this deal and I tore it up in five minutes. It's my fault."

Harvey stepped next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "No, Louis. This is _our_ fault."

So, they faced Jessica's wrath together. The three of them lined up in front of Harvey's desk, like bold children being scolded by their mother, and still, despite the situation they've got themselves into, Louis was oddly proud that they were sticking together in this moment.

Finally, Jessica let out a long, annoyed sigh. "I somehow managed to convince Jones to give us, or more accurately speaking _me,_ another chance. I set up a meeting in four weeks."

"Four weeks?! The hell is he going in the meantime?"

"Russia."

"Russia?", Louis and Harvey asked simultaneously.

Mike's eyes widened, a sudden idea starting to form in his head. He looked to the side and saw Donna glancing back at him, her expression mirroring his. Apparently, she'd just had a similar thought.

"For the world cup", Jessica replied with annoyance.

"There's a world cup this year?"

"Oh my god." Donna couldn't help but groan. Harvey really didn't know a thing about football.

"Yes, there is. And Jones is going. So we better goddamn hope England will do well— "

(Mike snorted derisively, quickly turning it into a cough when he saw Jessica's face.)

"—Or so help me god, if we lose this client because you three can't get your shit together, you'll all be working pro bono's for the next year."

Harvey let out a strangled noise.

"You have a month to come up with a strategy to convince him to sign with us after all. So it better be a good one."

"Actually..." Mike shot Donna a grin which she answered with a smile just as wide. "I think we already have one."

.

Mike and Donna set their _emergency meeting_ , as they called it, for the evening. They all met in the big conference room, suspiciously eyeing Mike greeting them with fire in his eyes, a grin plastered on his face, three tablets, two laptops and – god forbid – a flipping chart next to him.

His and Donna's idea to watch the world cup this year and learn everything they could about soccer – or _football_ as Donna kept correcting him – to impress the shit out of Taylor Jones when he came back from Russia wasn't met with any excitement or approval. The atmosphere changed immediately when Mike played his next card: they should bet on a winner.

Fast as lightning, Harvey's eyes snapped up to meet Jessica's, and they each grabbed a device to start researching which team they would go for. Donna's proposal to just bet on whether or not England would win was dismissed by a grunt from Louis, who already had Nigel on the phone and demanded to be given a crash curse on the rules of football over the next few minutes.

"We should've seen this coming", Donna sighed, already writing down their names on the flip chart. They would also need an official sheet for their bets and everyone would have to agree to certain terms before proceeding; she was surrounded by five lawyers after all.

The fight over who would support which team properly broke out after Jessica, having delved into the topic silently for 15 minutes with what Mike could only call dangerous precision, officially named Mexico as her team. Donna was about to write it down, but Mike pulled the pen out of her hand.

"Nope, you can't do that", he fired in Jessica's direction.

"Why the hell not?"

"Because I'm betting on Germany and we're in the same group, so I refuse to have you as my main enemy for the first two weeks."

"There are groups?", Louis cut in confused, his phone still in hand. Nigel had hung up on him over five minutes ago.

"I don't care who you're betting on kid, I'm going with Mexico."

"Bold choice", Harvey said.

"What can I say, I have a thing for underdogs", she gave back.

"I want to bet on Greece", Rachel exclaimed out of nowhere.

"They didn't qualify."

"Oh." Rachel's face fell at Donna's words. "That's too bad. They won back when I was on Crete for my vacation."

"They didn't win the World Cup", Mike corrected her, automatically going through the statistics he had memorised in his brain. "They won the European Championship in 2004."

Rachel dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "Whatever, I have nothing but good memories about that summer."

Mike squinted his eyes. "Why?"

Donna gasped. "OH, that's when you met Darius."

Rachel's cheeks turned pink.

"Who's Darius?"

"Rachel lost her virginity to him", Louis mumbled like it was nothing. "Anyway, can we move on? I'm going to bet on Russia."

"You had your first time on Crete and _that's_ why you want to bet on the Greek team?" Mike almost stumbled over words. "Is this Darius douchebag playing for them or what?"

"Why would you bet on Russia, they suck!", Harvey argued, ignoring Mike as his eyes were fixed on Louis.

"Sheila bought him a Russian cat a week ago", Donna explained.

"Calm down Mike, it's just a fond memory", came Rachel's defensive voice from the other side of the table, where she was facing her husband with arms crossed in front of her chest.

"You're betting on Russia because of a cat?", Harvey half-jeered, half-yelled. He breathed in to say more, but then his irritation just deflated and became resignation. He rubbed his forehead. "Of course you are."

"It's a _Neva Masquerade"_ , Louis countered enraged.

"Is that the cat's name?!"

"Why does _Louis_ know when and where you lost your virginity and I don't?", Mike snapped. "Are you still in contact with him?"

"If you don't pipe down on the obsessive jealousy right now, I _will_ contact him."

"Guys", Jessica cut in, barely raising her voice above the usual volume. "That's enough."

Silence spread through the room.

"Now, I think the idea itself is brilliant, but if you're gonna behave like children I'm pulling the plug on this operation right away, understood?"

Nobody moved.

"Excellent. Now, Donna is going to be in charge of the rules since she obviously knows the most about soccer."

"Hey", Mike complained half-heartedly.

"My mum is Irish", Donna fired back. "Trust me, I know football."

Mike raised his brows. "Then why are you writing down Brazil as your team?"

"Because Ireland didn't qualify, and Brazil is going to win the world cup this year."

Harvey gave her an intrigued smile. "Are they now?"

She levelled his stare. "Yes. They are."

Not breaking eye contact, Harvey said, "I'm betting on Spain."

"I knew it."

"No you didn't", he scoffed.

"I did. It was either Spain or Argentina, but you went the safe route with Spain."

Harvey shrugged. "Nothing wrong with betting on the team that has won the most trophies over the last ten years."

"Like I said: safe choice", Donna provoked him further, a knowing smile on her face. She ignored his stammering protests, writing down Spain next to his name and putting down Germany next to Mike's.

"I'm going with Portugal", Rachel grinned, looking at Mike like she was daring him to say something, which he did. Of course he did.

"Why?", he asked with a wince, like he knew the answer already and didn't want to hear it.

"Ronaldo is hot", she said with an innocent smile. "I'm sorry, is that making you uncomfortable?"

"Yeah, you deserve that one", Harvey smirked.

"Shut up, Harvey."

"Moving on", Jessica insisted. "Now that everyone has their teams, and Donna is going to set up a few rules, I suggest Louis will be in charge of the bets. He's our financial wizard after all and he'll keep some people – ", her eyes narrowed down on Mike, "—from cheating."

"I love how you are all ganging up on me even though this whole thing was my idea", Mike commented sarcastically.

"So, everything is settled then", the managing partner went on.

"Wait. One more thing." All eyes in the room settled on Mike. "We're not just gonna bet on money, right? That's boring. What else could we be betting on?"

The silence lasted exactly three seconds.

Then, the next fight broke out.

"Wrong question, kiddo", Donna groaned through the growing voices, flipping her chart and writing "BETS" in capital letters on top of it. "Wrong question."

.

OPERATION "IMPRESS THE SHIT OUT OF TAYLOR JONES" — THE TEAMS:

Jessica: Mexico

Louis: Russia

Donna: Brazil

Harvey: Spain

Mike: Germany

Rachel: Portugal

.

They met in Harvey's office the next morning to watch the first game. Harvey's bad mood (he had the suspicious feeling that this goddamn time difference would be the death of them) quickly went away when he almost laughed Louis out of the room because he came in wearing an _uschanka._

"What on earth are you doing?", he gasped wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

"What does it look like I'm doing?", Louis countered, "I'm showing support for my team, asshole."

"By wearing a furry hat when it's 77 degrees outside?"

Donna shushed them, her eyes already glued to the TV-screen they had set up in front of his sofas. "The ceremony is about to start."

Her cheeks were flushed with excitement and Harvey suddenly found it incredibly hard to take his eyes off her. He had never seen her like this, and it was beyond intriguing to learn everything he could about this different, unexpected side of her. It also made him want to rile her up, to see how deep her passion for this sport really went.

"It's just soccer", he said, purely to provoke her. To his surprise, she shot him a satisfied smirk and pointed to the table she had prepared earlier. "Drink."

"Excuse me?"

"Drink. You said soccer instead of football, and that's a violation of the rules, so you have to take a shot."

"No it isn't."

She dangled a piece of paper in front his face. A paper he signed. A paper she _definitely_ added a few rules to since he'd signed it.

"Yes, it is." The triumph in her voice was hard to miss.

"That's cheating", Harvey protested, looking over to Louis for help. "You're our boss of bets, say something. It's cheating!"

Louis scoffed, demonstratively adjusting his uschanka and sitting down on the sofa. "I'll allow it."

"Drink", Mike agreed with glee in his eyes.

Harvey's eyes jumped from one person to the other. "You know if we all keep drinking every single time we say soccer we won't make it through the day, right? It's barely lunch time."

Jessica raised her brows, not taking any pity on him. "Now you already have to drink twice, so you better get on with it."

Harvey shook his head in disbelief but saw no other choice than to obey since he was clearly outnumbered. He downed the two shots as quickly as he could, cursing under his breath. If he'd known what this day would turn into, he would've eaten more for breakfast. "God, I hate vodka."

"You shouldn't have said soccer", Mike smirked, closing his eyes the next second. "Shit."

"Hah!", Rachel yelled, not even bothering to hide her gloating. She pushed a shot in his direction and threw him a hand kiss. "Drink."

"This is not going to end well", Mike rasped after taking the shot, swallowing down a cough.

And it didn't. Whatever the hell kind of Russian beer and vodka Donna had bought – Harvey kept calling the vodka the "actual drink of the devil" –, it was _strong,_ and it knocked them out good in no time. Between the 'soccer' rule and Donna's other favourite (everyone having to take a shot each time one of the teams they'd bet on scored, except for the person that bet on it) pretty much everyone was absolutely hammered 30 minutes into the game.

Mike was such a giggling mess during half time and his pronunciation got so slurred that Rachel discreetly swapped out his vodka for water so he'd survive the second half. Nobody else seemed to notice. Each time they thought they might have time to sober up, Russia scored another goal and the room erupted in cheers and then groans when they realised they had to take _another_ shot. Most of them had no idea what else was going on on the field, but a goal was a goal, and a goal meant drinking. The only one that still seemed to be approachable after the game was over was Louis, mainly because he had to drink five shots less than the rest. Jessica and Rachel nearly fell over themselves laughing about something no one else found funny, Donna had tried really hard to focus on the game despite her growing intoxication, Harvey had passed out on his sofa and was drooling on the expensive fabric and Mike kept listing football facts and statistics to nobody in particular like his life was depending on it.

Louis, quite tipsy himself, feared the situation was completely out on anyone's control, and loudly announced he'd order them some food. He doubted anyone heard it, so he disappeared to the executives' kitchen to make them some coffee.

"Yes, you go", Donna shouted after him. "Spread your wings, my Russian eagle."

Mike snorted out a laugh and promptly choked on his beer. "Is there even such a thing as a Russian eagle?"

"How the hell would I know?" Donna giggled, taking a sip of her own beer.

"You know", she said tentatively a moment later, "Harvey is wasted."

"No shit, Sherlock. So are we."

"No, I mean he is _wasted._ And helpless. This is a once in a lifetime chance."

Mike's face lit up with mischief. "I got you, don't worry." He grabbed a permanent marker from Harvey's desk and approached his boss carefully, placing the lid between his lips and bringing the tip of the pen to Harvey's cheek. Slowly, with barely concealed chuckles, he drew a large, awry heart on his cheek. He turned around after he finished, spreading out his arms like he was expecting praise.

"Really?", Donna scoffed. "A heart?"

"What? He's gonna hate it!"

She rolled her eyes and grabbed a pink marker from her former cubicle. "Watch and learn, puppy."

Mike's eyes widened when he watched her draw on Harvey's other cheek with sudden, calm precision. "Is that a— "

"Yep."

"He's going to kill you for this", Jessica interjected, finally done with her laughing fit and bringing hers and Rachel's attention back to the rest of the group.

Donna shrugged. "Only if his drunk ass finds out. And even then, it'll be worth it."

Rachel frowned. "When did the game end?"

"About 20 minutes ago."

"Oh. What was the final score?"

"5:0."

Rachel nodded pensively. "That explains why I drank so many shots."

"Anyway." Jessica clapped her hands together, making everyone wince at the noise. "Time to get back to work."

"You're… you're expecting us to work after this?", Mike stammered. "Jessica, we're in no shape to do anything except sleep, eat or continue drinking."

"Who drinks on the job has to work on the job. No excuses", Jessica replied without empathy.

Louis re-entered the room, accompanied by Gretchen. They were both carrying a tray with mugs and Donna hummed in appreciation, inhaling the coffee smell that entered the office with them. "You're a life saver, Louis."

They placed the trays on Harvey's desk and started giving the mugs around. "Time to sober up", Louis said.

Mike grabbed two coffees out of his hands and approached Harvey again, kicking the sofa he was lying on with his foot. "Get up, dickbag."

Harvey jolted awake with a small cry, wide-eyed and panting; clearly still drunk. He murmured a few incomprehensible words before he focused on the cup Mike had placed in his hand.

"You are an angel", he exhaled, staring up at him like Mike was the most incredible thing he'd ever seen.

"Oh boy", Jessica sighed. "He's not drunk, he's hammered."

Mike bit his lip. "We have a meeting in an hour."

"I'll fix it", Donna said, nodding in Mike's and Jessica's direction and getting up from her seat. "Everybody out. Take your food", she gestured to Louis who was in the middle of paying the delivery man, "And get out. Sober up and act like everything's normal. That might be our only chance to get through the rest of the day."

The other four mumbled in agreement and grabbed their mugs and food, exiting Harvey's office right afterwards.

The sudden silence that seeped into the room made Donna nervous and too sober for her liking. She finished her beer in three big gulps, turning off the TV and sneaking a glance at Harvey from the corner of her eye. He was still slumped into the sofa, staring into his mug.

"Are you okay?", she asked quietly.

His gaze flickered up, taking her in intensely before a blissful smile broke out on his face. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. His tie was dangling loosely around his neck, the first two buttons of his dress shirt were undone, and his suit jacket was nowhere to be seen. His hair was a dishevelled mess. Donna had the sudden urge to run her fingers through it. It was like being drunk melted away the stiffness and overcompensation he usually always hid behind, leaving nothing but a soft vulnerability that radiated off him and that cracked something inside Donna open. Something she usually kept tucked away.

The last time she'd seen him this open, this loose had been… the other time.

Shit.

She downed another shot of vodka in the surreal hope it would make her head clearer and ban these unwelcome thoughts out of her mind.

"Woah", Harvey commented, still smiling his Cheshire cat smile when he stood up rather wobbly and closed the distance between them. "You sure you can take that much, Paulsen?"

He was close. Too close. She drank another shot, the alcohol burning down her throat and setting her stomach on fire the next seconds. So much for sobering up.

"Eat me, Specter", she countered without thinking, quietly cursing herself when she realised how suggestive the words that slipped out of her mouth sounded. Harvey crooked up his brow. He was about to say something, something we wouldn't say if he was sober, and Donna panicked. Her index finger shot up and pressed against his lips.

"Don't."

Harvey's grin disappeared, the look in his eyes growing more severe and intense. His stare dropped from her eyes to her lips for just a split second, but long enough for her to catch it.

"You asked for it", he mumbled. She felt his breath against her finger and drew it back hastily, like she'd burned herself.

 _Focus,_ she told herself. _You're drunk, he's drunk._

 _It doesn't mean anything._

Her stare landed on his left cheek and the tension in her body ebbed away when she remembered what she'd done earlier. Before she could help it, her hand lightly grazed said cheek. He froze.

"Get some food in you, okay? And another coffee. You have a meeting in less than an hour."

Harvey blinked, his hazy brain trying to catch up with what was she was _saying_ while still trying to comprehend what she was _doing_ with her hand on his cheek. "Meeting?"

She chuckled, using the moment to create some space between them and escape his eyes. "Yes, a meeting, doofus. With that new fitness client of yours, remember?"

"Right", he said, more to himself than to her.

"Good. I'm going back to my office." She came to an halt at the door, studying him from a safe distance. "You're gonna be alright, yeah?"

He hesitated. An idea started building in the back of his head, slow and blurry like the rest of his mind but there nonetheless. "Yeah", he answered with a loopy smile. "I need to take care of some business, but after that I'm going to nail that meeting."

Her gaze fell onto his cheek again and she snickered. "Sure you are."

Harvey watched her walk away, swallowing down the silly urge to ask her to stay. If he needed her, she was right next door. He took a sip of his coffee and cringed when he realised it had already gone cold. He poured some vodka into the mug and sat down on his desk chair, firing up his laptop to bring his idea to life.

.

Harvey did not nail the meeting.

His mind was still spinning when he walked down the hallway to meet Mike and his client – maybe mixing his coffee with vodka while he was supposed to sober up hadn't been his brightest decision, after all –, but as he passed Donna's office he noticed he hadn't been the only one that had kept drinking. Rachel and Donna were sitting on her table, each a glass of scotch in hand, cackling like mad and waving at him when he walked by.

And the second he saw Mike's flushed face, Harvey knew he was far away from being sober, too.

Strangely, their obvious state of intoxication didn't seem to matter to his client, who was apparently much more irritated by Harvey's presence itself. He just couldn't stop staring at Harvey's face like he had a hard time believing what he was seeing. Harvey also didn't understand why Mike couldn't stop laughing every time he looked to the side and saw his boss.

Their client eventually stormed out of the room after Mike made a dick joke that was so obvious and distasteful it made even Harvey cringe. "What the hell is going on?", he asked, completely bewildered.

Mike had tears in his eyes from laughing, but just shook his head. "Nothing", he said hoarsely. "I should go after him and try to save what I can, before we lose the second client in two days."

Harvey gave him a short nod and headed for the bathroom.

He just wanted to take a nap.

He just wanted this day to be over.

Watching soccer – _football,_ a voice in his head that suspiciously sounded like Donna's immediately corrected him – was freaking exhausting.

He would be damned if he'd ever watch another game by her rules ever again.

… except he knew he would, if only to win the bet.

Harvey sighed, splashing some water on his face in order to clear his head. Their client had really run out of there like he'd seen a ghost. He shook his head, still somewhat confused and annoyed, and definitely still drunk. He grabbed a paper towel from the side and dried his cheeks, only looking into the mirror after he'd thrown it into the garbage.

He froze.

Then turned his face from one side to the other.

A heart.

And a—

What the—

The client hadn't run out of the meeting because he'd seen a ghost, but because he'd seen the giant pink dick on Harvey's left cheek.

He had an actual, godforsaken dick on his face.

He'd held a _meeting_ with a dick drawn on his face.

Harvey knew who he had to blame instantly. There just wasn't another option.

"Mike", he yelled, his voice erupting through the room so loudly it almost made him wince. He stormed out of the bathroom, pushing the door open furiously but hesitating the next second when he saw the two people waiting at the other side of it. Mike. And Donna.

His anger melted, some of his drunk idiocy crashing back in.

"Did you draw the heart on my cheek?", he asked her softly.

Donna's eyes widened, momentarily taken off guard by the genuinely happy tone of his voice. "Umm…", she stammered.

Mike was bending over and absolutely shaken with laughter, his eyes wet and switching from Donna to Harvey and back. "Try it the other way around", he managed to croak out between more laughter.

Harvey jaw dropped. He looked at Mike and touched his right cheek. "You— a heart…? I don't— "

Mike blew him a kiss and Harvey's eyes flickered to Donna, who was desperately trying not to burst out into laughter, which only got harder when Mike slung his arm around her shoulder because he couldn't hold himself upright anymore.

Harvey touched his left cheek. "You drew a dick on my face?", he muttered with such complete disbelief that Donna couldn't help it any longer. A loud cackle escaped her lips, only fired on by Mike's hysterical laughter.

When they saw the entirely unamused look on Harvey's face, they shared a glance and turned on their heel, running away like little school children who had just kicked him in the shin and now didn't want to face the consequences.

"You're dead to me!", Harvey yelled after them. "Both of you!"

From now on, all bets were off.

Game on.

.

* * *

 ** _yes, this fic is going to be as silly and fluffy as the first chapter suggests, with a sprinkle of angst here and there because I couldn't live with myself otherwise._**

 ** _you don't need to know anything about football to be able to follow this story, but you're probably gonna appreciate some of the jokes more if you do. also, I'm sorry this is up so late and now the wc is already almost over, but life kept getting in the way. I'll try to get the rest up as quickly as I can. since I've made the outline for this fic before the real world cup began, I have my own list of teams that'll reach the quarter/semi-finale etc, so this fic will definitely have a different world champion and different game results._**

 ** _let me know what you think of this. it's so different from what I usually do with 120 years, so I'm curious to read your thoughts. x_**


	2. 2 - Counterattack

**_huge thanks to DonnaRSpecter, Paulsen-Specter, xScandalFan, AnonymousDH, darveyandsuits, -stories, Parvencita, .jg, RandomCamaro and the three guests for your reviews! you're the reason I sat down and finished the second chapter so quickly, so I can't thank you enough. also, thanks to everyone on twitter for encouraging me to keep this going!_**

 ** _In case you were wondering what the hell harvey was doing on his laptop after donna left his drunk self alone in his office, don't worry, you'll find out right away._**

 ** _I hope you like the second chapter just as much xx_**

 ** _P._**

* * *

" _Some people think football is a matter of life and death. I can assure you, it's much more important than that." – Bill Shankly._

* * *

 **#2: Counterattack**

.

It took Mike a few days to properly realise he might have kickstarted something he couldn't control. Actually, it had quickly become something none of them could control. The main thing they hadn't seen coming was how thin the line between watching for the fun of it and getting way too invested way too fast really was. A week earlier, none of them (except for Donna) had given a damn about football, and yet here they were. Somewhere between the fear of losing their bets, unexpected losses by teams that were supposed to play well and Harvey drunkenly ordering them all jerseys on the first day they'd lost focus on why they originally agreed to do this and got obsessed. Donna prided herself in seeing it coming, but Mike knew even she couldn't have foreseen Jessica dancing on Harvey's desk after Mexico beat Germany or Harvey whispering, "I want to sign him" with big, round eyes after seeing Andrés Iniesta play for the first time.

The atmosphere within the group changed radically from day to day, sometimes from hour to hour depending on how the games ended. Mike had refused to even look at Jessica after Mexico won against his favourite, in fact he was furiously going through statistics for the rest of the afternoon and didn't pay much attention to Brazil playing against Switzerland.

Contrary to Mike, Donna was almost bursting with excitement when the referee blew the starting whistle. She was dressed in the yellow and green jersey Harvey had bought for her, the number ten and the name "Paulsen" written on her back, eyes glued to the screen like she didn't want to miss a second of the match. Harvey sat next to her, trying not to stare too much, but it was proving to be difficult with all the noises and gestures she made.

"So, Harvey, about these jerseys…", Mike began teasingly, twitching at his white kit. His had the number 8 on the back. "Why'd everyone get them flocked properly and I got one that says _'shit starter'_?"

"Because you are", Harvey said.

"Because he loves you the most", Donna said, not taking her eyes off the game.

Mike leaned back in his chair, a smug smile on his face. "Oh, does he now?"

"Shut it."

"Yeah, stop complaining Mike, I got the Russian kit flocked with a 0 and _'looser'_ ", Louis muttered, glaring at Harvey.

"Nothing I do is ever good enough for all of you, huh?"

"Well, I think it was unnaturally sweet of you to buy us all our team jerseys", Rachel said, sipping at her beer and soothingly running her hand up and down Donna's arm when Neymar missed a chance and the redhead almost jumped out of her chair in frustration. "Which only proves how drunk you really were."

"I'm not talking to you", Harvey shot back in her direction and Rachel rolled her eyes. "It's not my fault Ronaldo single-handedly tore Spain apart when we played against each other."

"He didn't _tear them apart_ ", Mike scoffed. "The game was a draw."

"Yeah whatever, we all know it felt like a loss to both you and Harvey."

"I think Harvey is okay", Jessica chuckled, straightening her own jersey. Harvey had it flocked with the number 1 and _BOSS_ in capital letters. She was currently thinking about giving him a raise. "He was too busy with his little man crush on Iniesta."

"It's not a man crush!", Harvey spat angrily.

"I bet that's why he chose the Spanish team in the first place", Donna teased, "He just thought they were all so pretty."

"Don't you have a game to watch or something?"

"Please, I'm Donna. I can multitask."

"I think Harvey shouldn't be ridiculed for finally embracing his admiration for the male sex."

"Fuck off, Mike."

"Put on your jersey and I'll stop talking."

"Okay A., that's never gonna happen and B., we all know your incapable of shutting up no matter what the circumstances are."

"Why did you even buy the jerseys if you're not going to wear your own?", Rachel asked.

Harvey rubbed his forehead. "How many times do I have to say this before you stop nagging me about it? I was drunk, I bought these freaking jerseys and you made fun of it. Hilarious. Doesn't mean that I'm actually into football, it just means I was too wasted to separate a good idea from a terrible one. Now, can we please move on?"

"No", the other five said simultaneously.

Louis patted Harvey on the back. "Sorry buddy, but you dug your own grave with that purchase."

"Oh, you're one to talk, _Bob._ "

"Stop calling me that!"

"Sorry buddy, you dug your own grave with that one", Harvey gave back sarcastically. "You were the one insistent on being called _'Boss of bets'_ for the rest of the world cup."

"Yes, Boss of bets, not Bob."

"FUCK YES", Donna yelled, all of the sudden leaping out of her chair and almost knocking over the glass table in front of her. Her beer was splattering over the surface and on Harvey's trousers.

"Donna, what the— "

"Goal, bitches!", she screamed, not paying any attention to him and pulling Rachel into a bone-crushing hug instead.

"Donna, I can't breathe."

"I don't give a shit, THEY SCORED!"

"Jesus Christ, would you calm down?" Harvey still couldn't decide whether to be annoyed or intrigued with this version of her. Mike handed him a towel, but not without throwing him one of his suggestive smirks.

"I'll calm down when we're world champions", Donna said, brushing her red hair out of her face and sitting back down. She gave Harvey a glowing smile, her passion for the game still flickering in her eyes. It was like her entire face was burning with emotion.

For a moment, Harvey forgot why he was supposed to be mad.

Her stare went back to the TV.

Harvey took a breath and continued drying his pants.

Mike was still waiting for his boss to look back at him. When he eventually did, Mike's eyes moved from him to Donna and then back. His brows shot up.

"What?", Harvey snapped.

Rachel gently tapped her husband's arm and shook her head.

Mike smirked. "Nothing."

"What?", Harvey repeated.

"Ignore him, Harvey, Mike's just trying to rile you up because he can't stand the thought of Germany not surviving the group phase."

That effectively wiped the smirk off Mike's face. "That's not funny."

"It kinda is."

"It's not."

"You know what's really funny?", Louis cut in. "It looks like Harvey just wet his pants."

Everyone except Harvey and Jessica burst into laughter.

"No it doesn't", Jessica replied dryly. "Besides, he already did that when Portugal equalised against Spain."

Harvey groaned. "I _hate_ soccer."

Donna's eyes snapped up. "You just said soccer."

"No I didn't."

"Yes", she nudged a shot of vodka in his direction, "you definitely did."

"Crap."

.

"That was offside!", Louis yelled at the TV.

"Oh for crying out loud, Louis, no it wasn't", Mike growled.

"Tell me if I'm wrong Mike, but if Germany doesn't win this game, they're out, correct?"

"Tell me if I'm wrong Harvey, but both of you still have no fucking idea what offside is, correct?"

It was a beautiful, sunny Saturday afternoon, and yet they were cooped up in Harvey's condo, watching football. Mike's mood was at a low point ever since Mexico had won against South Korea earlier (he just couldn't take the smug look on Jessica's face), and now, to make it even worse, Sweden had just scored against Germany.

Plus, he was surrounded by two clueless morons who still didn't know shit about football and three women who just loved provoking him.

"If you're so annoyed with us not understanding the concept of this 'offside' thing, then why don't you explain it to us?"

"I did." Mike levelled Louis' stare furiously. "Seven freaking times."

"It still doesn't make sense to me", Louis shrugged.

"That's because you lost your last brain cell after you convinced yourself that this new cat of yours can predict the outcome of every single game."

"Don't bring Ivan into this", Louis hissed, stroking the animal that he'd brought into Harvey's apartment despite his vehement protest. "And by the way, without him as a lucky charm Russia wouldn't be the strongest team at this world cup right now."

"Russia is _not_ — "

"LOOK AT THE CHART MIKE", Louis screamed, getting up from his chair to walk over to the flipping chart and slap repeatedly against his own name. "LOOK WHO'S IN FIRST PLACE RIGHT NOW."

"I swear to god Louis, if you say one more word I'm gonna staple that freaking cat of yours to the ceiling."

Jessica chuckled.

"Not to my ceiling, though", Harvey intervened.

"Don't you just love how football really gets men's testosterone going like nothing else?", Donna quipped, clinking glasses with Rachel and inhaling sharply when Sweden's attacker missed the chance to score another goal. "Phew, that was close Mike."

"Eierköpfe", Mike muttered underneath his breath.

"Stop cursing in German, it's annoying", Harvey warned him.

Mike looked him straight into the eyes and said, "Arschgeige."

Harvey got up from his chair and poured his friend a shot of vodka. "That's it, new rule. Every time you curse in German, you have to drink a shot."

"But— "

"I think that's fair", Donna decided, already writing down the new rule on the sheet she'd gotten used to carrying around with her everywhere.

Louis' cat purred loudly, stretching its muscles and lumbering over to Rachel to lie in her lap. "See Mike", Rachel grinned, running her fingers through the cat's fur. "Even Ivan agrees."

"Watching this world cup with you was the worst idea I've ever had! And I had the idea to work as a lawyer without having gone to law school."

In the end, Mike had to take over ten shots in a row after Germany scored the winning goal at the last second of the game and he ran around for a solid minute, blissfully yelling "heilige Scheiße" over and over again.

He passed out on the couch soon afterwards, and Harvey finally got his shot at revenge for the whole dick-in-the-face fiasco. Knowing fully well that Mike and Rachel were invited to dinner with Rachel's parents the next day he covered Mike's entire face in German curse words, finishing his work by writing "I'm a dickweasel" across his forehead.

"Real mature", Donna commented.

Harvey nearly fell over his words. "That's coming from the woman who drew a dick on my face and let me go to a meeting with it."

"And yet you thought I drew the heart", she teased.

Harvey blushed. "So?", he gave back defensively, mostly because he didn't know what else to say.

"Nothing. It's just an observation."

He looked around, hoping nobody else had heard that last part of their conversation, when he noticed they were alone. "Where'd everyone go?"

"Home." Donna chuckled. "While you were busy decorating Mike's face, Louis and Jessica decided to get some much-needed rest and Rachel said that she'd leave her beloved husband in your care for the night."

Harvey sighed. "Seriously?"

"I believe her exact words were 'If he's gonna throw up tonight, it will be on Harvey's carpet and not mine'." Donna slung her handbag over her shoulder with a chuckle. "Anyway, I should get some sleep, too, so…"

"Can't you stay?"

The words came out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

He blamed it on the alcohol.

And on the way she looked in that jersey.

Harvey squeezed his eyes shut, trying to clear his head. He could still sense her staring at him. "Because of Mike, I mean", he tried to explain. "I wasn't— "

"It's fine, Harvey, don't worry", she assured him hastily. He noticed a shade of pink on her cheeks and immediately felt even more embarrassed. "I get what you mean, but— "

Now she was the one stammering. "I really don't think I…" She gave him an apologetic smile. "I don't think it's a good idea."

"Yeah, I agree", he gave back right away, nodding several times. "I'm sorry, I just hate the thought of being alone with this drunk bastard here all night. What if he wants to cuddle?"

That got a laugh out of her. She shook her head and said, "I'll see you two tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"That's the beauty of the group phase, remember? There's football every single day."

"Yeah", Harvey said lamely, ignoring the warmth that spread through his body at the thought of spending another full day with her. "That's the beauty of it."

Donna gave him a smile that could mean everything or nothing at all. "Good night, Harvey."

"Good night, Donna."

.

The games of the group stages eventually blurred into one big mess of too much alcohol, fights, being hungover at work and slowly but surely learning what Donna and Mike meant when they threw football terms like _stepover_ or _flat back four_ around. With three games every day, there was no way they were able to see all of it, and so Harvey's office became a place where the five others would just go to whenever they had a minute to spare, to sneak a glance at the game that was on in that moment. Harvey had quickly come to adapt to the steady sound of referee whistles, cheering crowds and excited commentators that he was now surrounded by 24/7, and sometimes he even wondered how he'd dealt with the quiet in his office before, ever since Donna had left his desk. He still refused to wear his jersey, though. It was like overcoming the temptation of putting it on was the last bit of pride he had left, and the reason he could tell himself he wasn't as obsessed with this whole thing as the others clearly were.

Donna's continuous presence was another thing he quickly got used to again, since she was hellbent on proving everyone wrong when they said it was impossible to watch every single match and still get their work done. She spent most of her time in Harvey's office, working on her files while looking up at the TV-screen in front of her every once in a while, commenting on a bad pass or a beautiful goal and smiling when she got an affirmative hum from Harvey in return. Meanwhile, Harvey caught himself staring at her more times than he was staring at the screen.

Chaos only really broke out when they all sat down together on the weekend or during lunch breaks, since their competitiveness immediately jumped out when they came together as a group. Another big discourse started when Jessica began to openly support Croatia as her "second choice" to win the world cup after she saw them beat Argentina 3-0. Mike was convinced the only reason Donna officially allowed everyone to pick a second team was because she in such a fantastic mood over Argentina losing.

Eventually, Harvey decided that he also wanted to sign Lionel Messi when he scored the 1-0 against Nigeria.

"How in the hell did he control the ball like _that_ after that cross?", he stammered, eyes fixed on the repetition of the goal.

"Told you he's the best player in the world", Mike shrugged.

"I thought that was Ronaldo", Louis wondered.

Mike winced and pressed a shot into his hand. "In this house, you don't get to say what you just said without punishment."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Honey, this isn't your house."

Mike gestured for her to be quiet with a wave of his hand. "Same rule goes for you."

"Donna write down 'Rachel is not having sex with Mike until he stops behaving like an asshole' as one of the rules."

"Done", Donna beamed and high-fived her best friend. "And you're all wrong anyway. Luka Modric is the best player in the world right now."

Mike scoffed. "Get out of here, Donna."

Donna's eyes were fixated on the TV, like they always were these days, but her lips curled up into a smile that radiated superiority. "You'll see."

"Is Modric Russian?", Louis asked hopefully.

Her face fell, and she pointed at the vodka bottle. "Shot. Right now."

"Why?", Louis whined, swallowing the vodka with a disgusted look on his face.

To everyone's surprise it was Rachel who explained, "Modric is Croatian, Louis."

She squirmed when she noticed everyone staring at her. "What? I do my homework."

"I have never loved you more", Mike breathed and grabbed her face to plant a long kiss on her lips.

"Maybe _she_ can explain to me what offside is", Louis suggested.

"Not this again", Jessica groaned.

Mike was back in his angered, aggressive state in the matter of seconds. "How can you still not understand that when I actually went through it with you for 20 minutes yesterday?"

"Hey, Jessica", Donna said quietly, nudging the managing partner's elbow. "Do you still have that stash in your office?"

Jessica's brows shot up. "Why?", she asked, intrigued.

"I won't survive another clash like this sober, and I'm a little tired of vodka and beer."

Rachel smirked. "I could get on board with that."

Harvey, Louis and Mike didn't even notice the three women disappearing during half time, too caught up in their discussion.

"Hey Harvey", Donna giggled 15 minutes later, casually leaning against the entrance of his office. Harvey looked up at her and was taken aback by the flirtatious smile playing around her lips. "If you really go through with picking Argentina as your second team, I will never forgive you."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah", she said, followed by another chuckle. "I don't know why I'm laughing right now, but I promise you, as soon as I can stop, revenge will be mine."

Behind her, Jessica and Rachel were snorting with laughter.

"Oh no, what did you three do?"

Mike squinted his eyes, observing them carefully. Then, he heaved out an exasperated sigh.

"They're stoned."

.

The first thing Donna noticed when she woke up was how hard it was to open her eyes against the bright sunshine that fell right on her face.

The second thing she noticed were the two things written on her arms. _Rule number 1: Never mix alcohol with weed_ on the left arm and _If lost, please return to Harvey Specter_ on the right arm, both undoubtedly in Rachel's handwriting.

The third thing she noticed when she slowly sat up and looked around in confusion was that this definitely wasn't her apartment.

The fourth thing she noticed was that she didn't remember anything about the night before.

The fifth thing she noticed, even before he came into the room, was that she had just woken up in Harvey's bed.

.

* * *

 _ **don't worry, I will definitely come back to what they're all betting on, it just didn't feel natural to put it in the dialogue yet but I'm working on it! I will also 100% come back to what happened while the three ladies were high, I'm not skipping it, pinky swear. it was just more fun to leave you hanging with this for the moment haha.**_

 _ **drop me a line or two if you feel like it, and tell me what you think :) x**_

 ** _oh, and_**

 ** _-"Eierköpfe" means "Eggheads"_**

 ** _-"Arschgesicht" means "Assface"_**

 ** _-"Heilige Scheiße" means "Holy Shit"_**

 ** _there, you learned something :D_**


	3. 3 - Dive

_**you guys… I feel SO shitty for abandoning this fic, especially after all of your amazing reviews and encouragement, but I couldn't for the life of me write this chapter. I have never fought this much to finish a chapter (or a scene, for that matter) and I still hate it all. I don't even know… but I thought maybe some feedback will help so instead of deleting it I'm uploading it and hoping you'll like it more than I do.**_

 _ **so sorry for the long wait. I hope you enjoy. incase the title didn't make it obvious: harvey and donna are diving this chapter. straight into the angst.**_

 _ **P. xx**_

* * *

" _Football is a game of mistakes. Whoever makes the fewest mistakes wins." – Johan Cruyff_

* * *

 **#3: Dive**

.

"Why would they get high?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe because the men we surround ourselves with are obnoxious idiots?"

"Good one, Jessica."

"Thank you, Donna."

"Alright stop it", Harvey cut in. The three women ignored him, still giggling.

"You do realise that we still have to work after this, right?", Mike asked. "It's barely past three."

"So? It's Sunday."

Mike looked at his wife like she just told him she believed in Santa Claus. "It's _Tuesday._ "

"Whoops. My bad." Rachel snickered. "Man, this stuff is strong."

Jessica's eyes lit up in mischief. "You know what would take the edge off?"

Donna gasped. "YES!"

"Can somebody please tell me what's going on?", Louis begged. "I'm really not following."

"I hereby give all five of you the rest of the day off."

Donna started cheering while Rachel opened an imaginary bottle of champagne, which caused another laughing fit amongst the women.

"They're not stoned, they're fucking crazy", Harvey moaned. "Jessica, you can't just clear our schedules and tell us to go home."

"Sure I can. This is my firm, and I can do whatever goddamn pleases me." Jessica gave him a relaxed grin. "Besides, who said anything about going home?"

She shared another look with Donna.

"Nope, whatever you're thinking right now, it's not happening."

"I'm _still_ not following."

Ignoring Louis' unhelpful input, Mike turned to Harvey and said, "You can't reason with them right now, they're way too high for that", like he was talking to a child.

"I know what being high is like", Harvey gave back irritated, "Remember when we shared a joint and wanted to piss in Louis' office?"

"You did _what?_ "

" _Planned to._ " Mike interfered quickly and raised up his hands when Louis took a step towards him. "And we wanted to piss in Hardman's office, not yours."

"We wanted to _start_ with Hardman's office", Harvey corrected.

"Still, we never went through with it."

"Because?", Louis snapped.

"Because we caught you going through my stuff and I almost killed you." Harvey's brows were raised slightly, his eyes daring.

"Right." Louis swallowed. "That."

"Right, good times." Mike clapped his hands. "Let's get back to the more pressing matters."

"Like what?"

Mike pointed over his shoulder. "Like how the girls just snuck out of your office and went god knows where to do god knows what."

Harvey's eyes widened. "Shit. Where'd they go?"

"I don't know, that's literally what I just said."

"Why didn't you go after them?"

"Because I didn't know if you and Louis would start beating the crap out of each other if I left you alone."

"We have to go after them."

Louis and Mike didn't move a muscle.

"Now", Harvey yelled, already in the hallway.

"God, he's cranky when he doesn't feel in control", Mike murmured.

They managed to find Jessica, Donna and Rachel at last. Harvey's instinct to look for the nearest Irish pub had been proven right, but judging from their states when they arrived, the girls had had enough time to create some chaos.

Only these three would be able to create _this_ much fuss in 30 minutes, Harvey thought, taking in the situation around him.

Rachel was bent over the bar, stealing a bottle of tequila from the bartender with the sweetest, most innocent smile on her face. "We're gonna need some lemons with that", she said, coyly fluttering her eyelashes, leaning back smugly to sit on her chair again when he did what he was told.  
Jessica sat a few feet away from her at the nearest table, engaged in a heated game of poker. A game she was undoubtedly going to win judging from the complacent grin on her face and the mountain of chips in front of her. The men around her shot each other nervous glances when she went all in.  
At the same time, Donna's loud laughter averted Harvey's attention to her. She was sitting next to Rachel, but on the bar itself, her bare feet casually resting on her bar stool. She was engrossed in a casual chat with the three guys surrounding her, bathing in the attention yet still sneaking a glance at the huge screen across from her.

Much to her obvious frustration, Argentina had just won the game.

In 30 minutes, they'd managed to make every single person's attention in this bar shift to them and them only.

Mike, who was standing to Harvey's right and seemed as stunned as he was, tensed up when he spotted the bartender reaching for his wife's arm, gently caressing it.

Then, everything happened at once.

Harvey, who was just about to hold Mike back before he could do something stupid, got distracted by the loud screams at Jessica's table and turned his head to make sure she was okay. Before he could move a muscle, Louis had already marched over there and loudly demanded to know what was going on.

Rachel yelled "Not my tequila!", when the bottle slipped out of her hand because Mike accidentally crashed into her on his way to tell the bartender off.

Donna's laughter turned into a squeak when she fell off the bar counter and took half of the stools with her.

The bartender told Mike to get lost and got punched in the face in return.

Jessica and Louis seemed ready to take on an entire crowd of pissed-off poker players if they refused to let her leave without her win.

Harvey quietly asked himself what he'd ever done to deserve this.

But his annoyance disappeared the second he realised Donna was lying on the ground, right where the tequila bottle had shattered.

"Get away from her", he growled, pushing his way through the crowd and kneeling down beside her. He brushed the hair out of her face and frowned when he saw that a piece of glass had cut her forehead. "Are you okay?"

"Hey, I was hitting on her first", the man next to him slurred.

"Beat it, dumbass."

"I'm just saying— "

"Don't you dare touch her."

"Are you her husband or something?"

"So what if I was?"

"Harveeeey." Donna tried to push herself up on her elbows but gave up when another shard cut into her hand. "You're not my husband, doofus", she giggled.

"And you can thank heavens that I'm here anyway, 'cause you wouldn't even be able to get up on your own."

Donna made a dismissive noise. "I have plenty of helpful gentlemen around me."

"I'm serious Donna, we're getting out of here now." He managed to move her up into a sitting position, back pressed against the bar.

"You're not the boss of me." Her brows shot up mockingly. "Hey, remember how we first met in a bar?"

"Jesus, how much did you drink in the few minutes you were on your own?"

"Actually", Donna went on like she hadn't heard him (she probably hadn't), grabbing him by the lapel of his suit jacket and yanking him closer to her in a swift movement, "since Jessica made me COO not too long ago, technically I am _your_ boss now."

Normally, Harvey would've been annoyed by the cat whistles and dirty comments made by the drunk guys around him. But they faded away into an irrelevant background noise when all of his senses zeroed in on her.

She gave him a lopsided grin, and he couldn't tell if she was teasing him on purpose or just too drunk and high to care. All he knew was that they were a heartbeat away from doing something very impulsive in a bar full of wasted strangers.

Donna traced the inside of his jacket with her hands, and then her fingers were suddenly ghosting over the collar of his shirt. "What, no witty comeback?"

They were way too close.

Harvey swallowed.

He could feel her breath on his lips.

His throat was still way too dry.

Her hair smelled like smoke and lemons.

He swallowed again.

Her fingertips were an inch away from his collarbone when he finally came to his senses and caught her hands with his.

"Don't do this, Donna."

Something unreadable flickered in her eyes. "Do what?"

"You know what."

"Dude are you not even gonna kiss her?", one of the guys next to them jeered. "She was practically beg—"

"Shut the fuck up before I break your nose", Harvey interrupted him sharply, wrapping his arm around Donna's waist. "Come on, Donna, I need your help so we can get up."

Her trying to be helpful turned out to be even more cumbersome than her snide comments before, and after the third try, Harvey started cursing underneath his breath.

Eventually, he managed to get them both on their feet, even though Donna was still leaning heavily against his chest. "Mike! Louis!", he bellowed, looking around furiously. "Get your shit together. We're leaving."

The others joined him one by one while he made his way outside, Rachel with a lemon in her mouth and a solemn look on her face, Jessica clutching her purse for dear life, Louis and Mike with a few scratches, dirt on their shirts, and – at least in Mike's case – an impressive tear in his suit jacket.

The last thing he heard before the door slammed shut behind them was that all six of them were banned from ever setting foot into the pub again.

.

It was all a blur of tequila shots, Rachel's squeals, Argentina scoring the last-minute winning goal, more tequila shots right after that, and Jessica announcing "I can take them" before disappearing somewhere in the swirling darkness. It was the smell of beer mixed with lemon and cigarette smoke, the feeling of glass ripping into her flesh on the hard floor, and something warm, something safe after that, too.

Something familiar she couldn't quite shake.

And then, there was _'if lost, lease return to Harvey Specter'_.

She was going to kill Rachel.

As in, actually kill her.

There was a time and place for humour, but nothing about waking up in Harvey's bed with no memory of what had happened the night before was funny. She sat up uncomfortably as she watched him enter the room with a mug in each hand, only now noticing what she was – or wasn't – wearing.

Harvey stalled for a moment when he saw that she was awake, and his eyes got stuck on the Harvard shirt she was wearing. His Harvard shirt. Donna hastily wrapped the sheet around her body and cleared her throat.  
He started walking again, approaching her slowly now.

"Umm, good morning?", she rasped, her voice thick and almost breaking halfway through it. Her mind was going back and forth between _Play it cool, Paulsen_ and _What the hell happened last night?_

"Hey", he replied softly, handing her one of the coffee cups. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, I thought you were still sleeping."

"It's okay", Donna said, her voice barely above a whisper. Everything in her was close to panicking.

Did they…?

Her breath quickened.

He sat down beside her, leaving a generous amount of distance between their bodies, and took a sip from his coffee. She mirrored his movement and her eyes darted to him immediately when she recognised the main flavour. Vanilla.

The panic set back in.

He escaped her eyes. "I—uh… I hope you slept okay?"

Well… she didn't know how to answer that, since she still had no clue how she ended up in his bed, or even anything before that. He hadn't even been at the bar, had he?

"I think so?" She drank from her coffee again, annoyed that everything she said and thought sounded like a question. He hummed, his fingers drumming an uneven rhythm on the blanket somewhere next to her feet. The silence stretched between them, uncomfortable and thick.

"I'm so sorry, this is embarrassing", it finally broke out of Donna when she couldn't take it anymore.

"What do you mean?"

She put down the cup on the nightstand next to her, burying her face in her hands. "I don't remember anything."  
It came out muffled.

Harvey breathed out loudly. "I'm still not sure what that means."

She kept her hands firmly in place. "It means that I don't remember what happened after we smoked the joint in Jessica's office, then went to _Limericks_ and took shots."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Donna peaked through her fingers and observed his reaction. He was staring at a meaningless spot on the wall. "So, you might understand my surprise when I woke up in your bed." She tried to laugh but it quickly died after seeing the tense look on his face.

"Nothing happened last night, Donna." Something went over his features while he said it, something weird, like he was holding back on saying more, but Donna couldn't figure out what it was by just seeing the side of his face.

She swallowed down the lump in her throat. "Good. That's good."

The entire situations still felt so awkward that she couldn't help but cringe. "Would you—umm…"

 _That goddamn voice kept breaking._

"Would you still mind telling me how I ended up here?" Another nervous laugh. "'Cause I'm kind of lost."

"Right." He shifted on his spot, hands fidgeting with his mug, but at least he finally found her eyes and held her unsure stare. "We found you at the pub and to be honest you were all pretty freaking smashed so we decided it would be best if you came home with me so I could keep an eye on you. Just in case." His eyes dropped onto the blanket again when she didn't answer. "You don't need to worry, I slept on the couch", he added.

"I'm not worried."

"Good." The tiniest smile crept up on his face. "We're all banned for life by the way."

Donna groaned. "Oh god, please stop. What the hell did we do?"

"Just some standard vandalism and assault. Pretty sure Jessica broke some guy's nose by slamming her purse in his face. Poor bastard was bleeding all over the place."

Her hands dropped from her face. "What?!"

He grinned. "Louis went home with her, to make sure she won't get into any more trouble."

"You're joking."

"Nope. Couldn't make this shit up if I tried."

"God, imagine how awkward _that_ morning after is going to be", she chuckled.

Harvey's grin grew wider. "Get out of my goddamn house, Louis", he said with his best Jessica impression. Donna's chuckle turned into bubbly laughter which smoothly transitioned into a drawn-out sigh. "Christ, I don't know how we could let ourselves lose control like this."

"Don't beat yourself up", Harvey said lightly. "I've had it much worse. Blame it on the football hype."

"I mean it, Harvey. It's embarrassing and I'm sorry."

"You said that already."

"Well, I'm saying it again."

He searched her eyes for a moment, clearly debating what to say or do next. "You wanna see something embarrassing?", he asked at last, getting up and walking over to his closet before she could answer. She crooked up a brow when he retrieved a suspiciously familiar looking article of clothing from the deepest darkest corner of his closet. Hiding it behind his back, he turned around and said, "I'm gonna show you this and you will stop feeling bad for yourself. And then we're not gonna talk about either of these things ever again."

She eyed him curiously before nodding in agreement. "Okay, deal."

Harvey scrunched his nose, took a deep breath and brought the shirt into sight. From the front, it looked like a normal Spanish jersey. With another wince, Harvey turned it around and Donna, who'd expected to see anything but _this,_ let out a cross between a gasp and a yelp, her eyes almost falling out of her head.

Above the number 6, in yellow capital letters, it said Mr. Paulsen.

"You didn't." It slipped out of Donna's mouth in complete disbelief.

"I didn't", Harvey groaned. "Drunk me did. He thought it was hilarious."

"Mike is gonna freak the f—"

"Mike", Harvey insisted. "Is never gonna hear a word about this."

Donna took a look at his tense, stressed face and burst out laughing, and once Harvey joined in it proved to be very hard to stop. "I can't believe you", Donna gasped, holding her sides and trying to catch her breath.

"I actually panicked the next morning when I saw what I'd done so I ordered another one with my real name on it." He wiped his eyes, his body still shuddering with suppressed laughter. "But yeah, now you know what's really embarrassing."

Donna watched him fold the jersey and put it back into the closet, this time right on top of his other shirts.

"Thank you, Harvey."

He turned around. "For what?"

"For trying to make this incredibly uncomfortable situation as comfortable as possible."

He met her eyes with severity. "You're my friend Donna. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable here."

It didn't hurt when he said it because that's what they were. Friends. After everything that happened recently, after everything Donna did and after what Harvey chose to give up to keep her in his life, they were still friends. It didn't hurt to hear him say it, she told herself. It just felt strange.

She cleared her throat, preparing herself to leave the warmth of his bed and go home. "But we're good?"

"Are we ever not?"

.

They didn't talk about it. Just like they never talked about anything too personal. Things that ran too deep, that were to risky to talk about just got ignored; like they were never there. It happened after Stephen. It happened after Harvey's _I love you_. It happened after they held hands.

It happened after they kissed.

And apparently it was now happening after waking up in his bed. Things were tense, but still, things went on. What brought them together was football.

After the group stages were over, things became even more competitive within the group because from now on, one game could decide everything. Harvey finally caved and wore his jersey (the one with his name on the back, of course) just in time to watch Spain beat Russia, thus kicking them out of the tournament. Louis didn't take it that well, trying to convince Jessica to fire Harvey out of pure spite if he wouldn't stop being a dick about it.

Portugal, Germany, Brazil and Argentina all went through pretty easily and after a heated match, Mexico joined them and reached the quarter finals. Jessica swore she'd aged more in those 120 minutes than she had in the whole five years before.

The day before the first quarter final, Rachel brought a small, custom made Russian jersey into Louis office. "For Ivan", she said gently, showing the name partner the back of the shirt. Louis burst into tears and pulled her into a crushing hug.

The next day, Portugal was kicked out of the tournament by Germany.

A few hours later, England lost against Croatia.

Mike was _gloating,_ declaring the day his favourite of all time when he went home that night, so Harvey was surprised to find him rather upset the next morning. "She put actual divorce papers on my fucking desk", he announced, dropping the files on Harvey's desk dramatically.

"You deserve it", Donna yelled from her office next door.

"Shut up, Donna", Mike yelled back.

"If you were still as obnoxious last night as you were during the day, I can't even blame her because you really do deserve it", Harvey agreed.

Mike squinted his eyes. "Thanks for the support."

Harvey shrugged. "Hey, speaking of you and Rachel, are you in for the game this afternoon? Spain is playing so we thought we'd finish work before lunch and meet up at Donna's place."

"I know Spain is playing", Mike sighed. "But I'm afraid we're gonna miss both games today. Rachel's parents invited us over for lunch and knowing them it'll take all day and why too much scotch to get rid of them again."

"That's only because you don't have the balls to go up against Robert."

"Like you go up against Jessica?"

"Get out of my office."

"Have fun later." Mike threw him a wink before leaving. It left an uneasy feeling in Harvey's gut, like he was missing a clue he was supposed to be aware of. That feeling only grew after Jessica told him she'd have to skip football too because Jeff was planning on taking her out.

"But… Mexico is playing Spain later." He was leaning against the backrest of her couch, completely puzzled by her announcement.

"I know."

"Why don't you go out with him tomorrow then? There's no football tomorrow."

Jessica threw him a smile. "Look at you, going from shit-talking football and calling it soccer to arranging your entire life around it in three weeks. Donna must be proud."

Harvey rolled his eyes. "Don't pretend like I'm alone in this. We're all pretty much insane by now, might as well make the most of it until the world cup is over."

"While I agree on making the most of it, that also goes for my relationship with Jeff. I already agreed on spending the day with him and he really appreciates me choosing him over football for once in the past couple of weeks. So I can't really go back on my word now.

And besides", she continued, stepping closer and lightly squeezing his shoulder, "Our teams are facing each other today and I definitely don't want to be around you when that happens, no matter which one of us wins. You're gonna be insufferable either way."

At least Louis was coming, Harvey thought when he knocked on Donna's door a few hours later. She opened it with a tight smile on her face.

"Louis just cancelled", she said before he was even fully through the door. "Apparently, Ivan has a cold and he doesn't trust Sheila to take care of him correctly."

Harvey couldn't help but snort. Louis and his goddamn cats. "So I guess we have to drink all that beer on our own?", he murmured, tilting his head to the side.

She averted her eyes, turning the TV on instead. "Looks like."

She told Harvey to sit down on the sofa with a gesture of her hand and disappeared into the kitchen. The atmosphere was tense, and he found it hard to make himself comfortable until she joined him a minute later with two beers in her hand. He was painfully aware that they hadn't been alone together since that unfortunate morning after in his bed; so aware that it made even the easiest bit of small talk seem forced and a desperate attempt to make the time pass quicker until the game began.

He sent a quick message – ' _may the better team win'_ – into the group chat Donna had created during the first days of the world cup and got an immediate _shut up_ from Jessica in return.

Donna chuckled when she read it. "Oh, what I would give to watch you two kill each other during the game. I can't believe she's skipping out on it to go out with Jeff."

"You and me both." Harvey shook his head, closing the chat and turning his attention back to the TV when he spotted the teams coming out on the pitch.

The moment the game was on, all awkwardness between them was forgotten and both were completely sucked into the game, yelling, cursing and laughing at the players and each other. When Mexico scored a few seconds before the end of the first half, Harvey jumped from his seat in shock and frustration. "Don't you dare inform a single one of them", he warned Donna, who already had her phone in hand.

She gave him a long look. "Apparently, I don't have to."

Harvey frowned, getting back to his own phone.

MIKE [12:44]: _How's it going?_

MIKE [12:44]: _I see Spain is getting its ass kicked. Getting nervous?_

Harvey couldn't believe his eyes.

HARVEY [12:45]: _Are you watching the game?!_

MIKE [12:45]: _Of course I am. You didn't think I would miss this match, did you?_

MIKE [12:45]: _By the way, how's donna?_

Harvey's hands started trembling slightly. If Donna saw it, she chose not to comment but nevertheless her eyes were trained on the screen. She had obviously read the entire conversation.

HARVEY [12:46]: _What the fuck, mike?_

RACHEL [12:46]: _so much for not saying anything_

DONNA [12:47]: _wait, what?_

DONNA [12:47]: _rach?_

MIKE [12:47]: _;)_

HARVEY [12:47]: _?_

HARVEY [12:47]: _guys?_

A mumbled "that bitch" escaped Donna's lips. Harvey met her stare, entirely outraged by the unfolding events. His eyes dropped back to the screen when he felt the phone vibrating in his hands.

JESSICA [12:48]: _from what I can see, it does look like the best team is winning after all_

JESSICA [12:48]: _:)_

Harvey waved his phone, heat creeping up his neck to spread out on his face. "They set us up."

Donna shook her head in disbelief when she saw the next incoming message. She showed it to him with a simple "I know."

It was a picture send from Louis' phone and undoubtedly taken at his place. Jessica, Rachel, Mike and Louis were seated on the couch together, all with the same shit-eating grin on their faces. Even the cat on Louis lap seemed to have a smug look on its small face, proudly showing off its Russian jersey.

Harvey and Donna spend the next minutes in a stunned silence, trying to wrap their heads around how – and especially why – their friends fooled them into this situation.

Donna eventually came to the conclusion that they were trying to force something that really shouldn't be forced.

Harvey immediately came to the conclusion that they were the worst friends to ever walk the face of the earth and that he'd never forgive them.

Again, football came to their rescue when the second half began and took them under its spell. They started doing shots when the Mexican goalkeeper somehow saved a brilliant shot from the Spanish attacker and Harvey decided he wouldn't survive this match (or the entire day for that matter) sober.

Five minutes before the end of the game, Spain equalized.

Two minutes into additional time, Iniesta scored the winning goal for Spain, and even Donna rose from her seat to scream and cheer before she could help it. Harvey's joy was just too affectious, and once she caught the vibrant, downright ecstatic look in his eyes it felt like she was trapped in it. She couldn't say what she would've done next if Harvey wouldn't have taken a step back, excitedly announcing he'll get himself another dozen beers to celebrate.

Before Donna knew it, she was lightly buzzed and taking "victory pictures" with Harvey, as he called them, so that they could post them in the group and stick it to the other four – who had all stayed suspiciously silent. Soon afterwards, even before the second game had started, she found herself engrossed in a conversation about her childhood, sharing memories of her mum and the weeks they would spend in Ireland every year. She couldn't remember the last time she'd spoken this openly about her family and how things were for her growing up.

"And then", she giggled, taking another sip of her beer, "my mum left my dad with her parents and we went to the game together."

Harvey raised his brows. "Sounds like her."

"Don't be too harsh on her, my dad was very inconsiderate and turned into a full-blown American every time we went abroad."

"You know I love your mum, so no judgement here."

"Right." Donna swallowed. "Sometimes I forget that you know her. Nobody else does. Ever since she went back to Ireland, she just… fell of the grid in a way."

"You don't talk anymore?", Harvey asked gently.

"We do. But we haven't been close for years now." She smiled but it came off as too sad for her liking, so she lightly jabbed him in the side. "Hey, she loved you when you were here for the godawful dinner party, so that's a plus."

"I'm sure she'd be here more if she could."

Donna shrugged. "She never liked it here. She missed Ireland too much when we lived here, it was just too different for her. She's the reason I go nuts every time someone calls football soccer."

"Yeah, I figured. I guess she's the reason you go nuts over brazil, too?"

"No", she gave back with a chuckle. "But when I was a kid, there was no football like Brazilian football. It was just the best team, nothing else even came close. I guess it made a lasting impression on me."

"I can't believe we've been working together for 12 years and I never knew about your obsession with football."

She threw him another smile, an honest one this time. "You remember that time two years ago when I came into the office late with a headache and in a spectacularly bad mood?"

He squinted his eyes. "Yeah."

"Ireland had just been kicked out of the knock out stages by France."

"How could I not have known", Harvey half-groaned, half-laughed, rubbing his palm against his forehead.

"Because I didn't tell you", Donna replied.

"I never tell you anything and yet you know every little thing about me."

She bit her lip. "You never know everything about another person."

Harvey reached for his beer bottle and took a sip instead of asking what she meant. He was surprised she had shared so much with him already, and the way she did it, like it wasn't highly unusual for her to open up to him. It made him want to follow suit and say something personal. So they could confide in each other again like they used to, to make that connection again that he felt like he lost on a specific day; in a specific moment. "Do you remember when Mike came back to us?"

Her lips twitched. "Which time?"

"The last time. Do you remember that night?"

"You mean the day Mike officially became a member of the bar?", Donna laughed. "Of course I do. That's a tough one to forget."

Harvey absently peeled at the label of his beer bottle. "The next morning, I drove around for a while before going to work and I— "

His eyes darted to the side for a split second and he found her staring back at him, all looseness drained out of her posture. He swallowed. "I ended up at her house. And I asked her out on a date."

He didn't say her name.

He didn't have to.

It still hung in the air between them, like a sudden, immovable wall that kept them apart.

"But I still don't know how I even got there when I didn't even plan on—", he licked his lips, swallowing the rest of the sentence.

"We don't have to talk about this", Donna hurried to say, ignoring the overwhelming feeling of sickness that settled down in her gut, just like it always did when Paula came up.

"No, I— ", he faltered again, his eyes locking with hers, unsure but severe. "I want to. I want to explain, and I want to understand, because it won't leave me alone. I know it's over now, it should be done, but it keeps coming back to haunt me."

Donna fought the urge to cry, or break something, or both. Was he really about to tell her that after everything that happened, after the choice he made, he wanted to give his relationship with Paula another try? Did he really believe _she_ of all people was the best person he should discuss this with?

She cleared her throat, trying to seem unfazed. "Maybe you should tell her that."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"If you want another chance with her, you should tell _her_ about your thoughts and not me."

Harvey shook his head in confusion, unsure if it was the alcohol that made him slow or if she was just misinterpreting everything he was trying to say. "That's not what I'm saying."

She seemed annoyed. "Then what are you saying?"

"I'm saying I think the only reason I went to her in the first place was because I was looking for something."

The sudden bitterness and anger that boiled to the surface made Donna snort. "Well, if it was free therapy sessions then you did one hell of a job."  
She regretted it the moment the words left her mouth but to her surprise his stare didn't waver, there was no anger or hurt reflecting in his eyes, just fatigue.

"No, Donna", he said, exasperated. "I meant that I was looking for you."

The bottle she'd just meant to put on the table slipped out of her hand, rolling under the table and splashing beer all over her carpet, but she just kept staring at him, unable to process what he just said. It felt a lot like it did after he told her she was different all that time ago, that complete state of shock and uncertainty, like his one sentence shifted the world on its axis again to have it crashing down on them a second later.

And just like that, she knew what he'd do next.

She knew before she saw the panic creeping into his eyes at the lack of her reply, the realisation of what he just admitted dawning on him and urging him to run away, to preserve their relationship as what it was, afraid that if it would have to change even in the slightest it'd be doomed to fall apart.

"Don't", she said the moment his leg started twitching, his head already turning towards the door, towards his way out of an impossible conversation. He was already halfway through the room when she found her voice once more, cold and precise. "You can't be serious. You can't drop another bomb like this on me and then leave me to pick up the pieces _again._ "

Something hard crossed his face when he looked back at her. " _You_ left _me_ the last time, Donna."

"No, Harvey", she yelled, her anger and frustration exploding as suddenly as inevitably, and she put one of the glasses down on the table with so much force it almost shattered. "You left first. That night, you ran away like a coward and to this day, you haven't had the guts to talk to me about it."

"Are you seriously bringing this up again after all this time?"

Donna straightened her back. "I am. Because you still owe me an answer. You can't expect to throw sentences like these in my face every once in a while, and then act like you're not responsible for how they're affecting me."

Harvey closed his eyes. He just wanted to leave. He _needed_ to leave. He wasn't ready to have this conversation with her, not like this, half-drunk and angry at himself and her, not now, when this stupid world cup had helped them to find the lightness and teasing in their relationship again.

"I can't stay."

"Don't", she repeated, a sharpness in her voice that protected it from breaking. "Don't you dare do this again. Don't you dare leave."

It almost made him stay. The fear of defying her, of hurting her again and leaving them up in the air. The fear of shattering them, this time irrevocably.

But no matter how conflicted his mind was, his body still knew what to do next. He risked one more look back when he opened the door, his eyes escaping her hard, unforgiving stare.

She laughed dryly, but her hands were shaking almosted violently when she moved the hair out of her face.

"Donna—"

She interrupted him by coming closer, and for a moment he thought she would hit him across the face, but she just passed him on the way to her bedroom, throwing him one last contemptuous glance.

"Go fuck yourself."

Harvey was still standing in the hallway minutes later, evenly breathing in and out with his heart hammering inexorably in his chest, wondering if he just destroyed the one thing in his life he always thought of as unbreakable.

.

* * *

 _ **some of you guessed the mr. paulsen thing immediately and I LOVE it haha, the opportunity was just too good not to take it. and I know I've said it before, but I had this fic outlined before the real world cup started, so this fictional one will obviously have a different outcome.**_

 _ **also, the angst is finally here, but apparently I can't write it anymore. nevertheless, this always was the way the story was meant to evolve but don't worry, things will be lighter again for the last two chapters. Let's hope I'll find my writing ability somewhere beneath the mountain of self-doubt :)**_

 _ **and finally, I know Harvey is not solely to blame for the situation they're stuck in, and his view on that will come into play very soon. In this situation it just made sense for donna to feel like he's the reason nothing ever comes out of their conversations.**_


	4. 4 - Stepover

_**alright everyone, we're nearing the end of this fic, which means lots of tension and maybe a little bit of trash because this is supposed to stay light, right? right. still, harvey and donna have issues and in this chapter I tried to explain a little bit more of how I view harvey's standpoint (since we got donna's pov at the end of the last chapter).**_

 _ **I'm planning on publishing the last chapter before christmas, so I'm hoping to wrap up the story soon. I think it's so hard on me because it's too fluffy for me. I miss my murderous vamps haha.**_

 _ **hope you enjoy. thank you for all of your feedback, I really appreciate it so much! xx**_

 _ **P.**_

* * *

" _I have not lost an awful lot in my life, but the defeats have taught me more than the victories." – Gianluigi Buffon._

* * *

 **#4: Stepover**

.

She didn't know who won.

That was the first thought crossing Donna's mind when she woke up the next morning. She'd gone to her room before Argentina vs Brazil had begun and in her anger she'd forgotten all about it. She hadn't missed a Brazilian match since the world cup started and now, they could've been knocked out without her noticing. By Argentina of all teams.

She frowned when her phone screen lit up and she saw numerous missed calls and messages from Rachel, messages diverting from "I hope you're okay" to "please call me, I'm here if you wanna talk". Donna typed a quick reply, promising to see her at work on Monday and then shut off her phone.

She didn't wanna talk. She was tired of the same questions she was asked again and again, questions she didn't want or know how to answer. She was tired of Harvey being unwilling to show up for that specific conversation every single time it came up. She'd already been at this point before, leaving him in the process, and yet it didn't seem to have changed anything in the long run.

Maybe it was her fault just as much as it was his.

Another sigh escaped Donna's lips before she buried herself under the sheets again, trying to escape her thoughts, or the entire world for that matter.

It was going to be a long week.

.

As it turned out, the next few days weren't long. They were _never ending_. The situation between Donna and Harvey didn't escalate again but to everyone's misfortune, the tension between them still simmered under the surface. It was obvious that ignoring it wouldn't work this time and yet they both seemed hellbent on trying to ignore it anyway.

Like Louis told Mike and Rachel Monday afternoon – after spending less than ten minutes in a room with Harvey, Donna and Jessica – it was like they tried to go back and close the floodgates again after having opened them without preparation.

"So, what are we gonna do about tomorrow?"

Mike turned to his wife. "What do you mean?"

"The first semi-final is tomorrow. Are we even gonna watch it together?"

Mike frowned. "We were supposed to meet up at Harvey's."

"If Donna is not going, I'm not going either." Rachel crossed her arms in front of her chest when she saw the two men staring at her. "What? You can't possibly think I'd let her watch the next games on her own while we're having fun at Harvey's place?"

"Yeah, because Harvey is so much _fun_ these days", Mike grumbled. Ignoring him, Louis turned to Rachel with a sigh. "Of course not, but I can't believe they're gonna mess up the group less than a week before the final."

"I'm pretty sure that wasn't intentional", Mike couldn't help but throw in, earning himself a glare from Rachel.

"This is our fault", she said, chewing her lips.

"Oh, come on."

"I'm serious. Things were going so well between them but we just had to get involved."

Mike took a step forward. "Rach—"

"No", she cut him off insistently. "Donna has barely talked to me since whatever happened on Saturday happened, she's completely closed herself off and I don't know what to do."

"Then let's do what we can." Mike grabbed her hand and met her eyes. "Let's make sure they'll watch the next game together. With us, so they'll have a buffer."

"That should be easy", Louis scoffed, but Rachel's face lit up. "Not easy, but logical."

"What do you mean?"

"We can't get to them with emotion because that's what got them into this mess in the first place. So we'll get them with logic." She rolled her eyes when she saw the confusion in their eyes. "We have rules. We have _bets_. We have a winner to determine. And ultimately, we have a case. This started because we were on the verge of losing a client. So logically, we need to get the job done. And despite their differences, they would never walk away from doing their jobs."

A huge grin broke out of Mike's lips. "I'm married to a genius."

"You really are", Louis chuckled. "This is brilliant, Rachel. This has got to work."

Rachel's smile disappeared as quickly as it'd appeared. "So, who's gonna have the talk with them?"

"Not it", Mike all but yelled.

Louis face fell. "Forget it."

"Easy", a voice from the door interrupted. Jessica was leaning against the frame, arms crossed, a sarcastic smile playing around her lips. "We draw straws."

.

Harvey didn't know how the hell they pulled it off but come Tuesday morning they all met up at his place, ready to watch Brazil play against Germany. Including Donna.

He'd only agreed because Jessica threatened she'd cross him off the list and he'd lose his bet and he would _not_ let that happen when he was so close to the finish line. Two more games involving Spain and he'd have won. He would win the main bet and his side bets with Louis (thus earning himself the promise to never be asked mudding again), Mike (thus eliminating the chance that this idiot would be his boss for two weeks), Jessica (thus earning himself the right to try and sign Iniesta as their client), Rachel (thus annihilating the chance to ever end up stuck babysitting any of her future spawns of satan) and… Donna.

He'd win his side bet with Donna. The one she didn't remember. The one she made with him while he took care of her wound that night she ended up in his bed.

The one he'd rather not think about.

When she arrived at his place, everyone else was already there, and he knew that wasn't a coincidence. Mike was already half drunk and back at cursing in German again while also arguing with Louis, Jessica had basically been in a bad mood ever since Mexico lost against Spain so he didn't' even dare approach her, and Rachel was working on a case while they were waiting for the game to start.

So, Harvey had no choice but to open the door for Donna. Her face was tense and he guessed it wasn't all nerves because of the approaching match. "Hey", she mumbled, giving him a small smile. He couldn't smile back. He felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest. She looked great, all dressed up in her yellow and green jersey and plain jeans – a look he was starting to associate with her and that made his chest tighten only further –, Brazilian flags on her cheeks and a bag of lemons in her hand.

"Hey", he finally managed, opening the door further to let her pass. She stepped into his condo cautiously, heaving out a relieved sigh when Jessica immediately got up from her seat to join her in the kitchen and prepare the caipirinhas. Harvey decided to put some distance between himself, Donna and Jessica armed with knives, so he headed for the sofa where Mike just finished his third beer. "Could you drink any faster?"

"Could you be any more deflecting?", Mike shot back, not missing a beat. Harvey glared at him and Mike, obviously satisfied, brought his attention back to his fight with Louis. "Where were we? Oh right, I want Jessica to fire your ass because I caught you singing _football's coming home_ again."

"You were doing _what?_ "

"Stay out of this, Harvey."

"Like hell I will, I agree with Mike and you're lucky I don't throw you out of this apartment right away."

Louis was somewhere between extremely pissed off and genuinely confused. "What's so wrong with singing this goddamn song? England is my second team, after all."

"Yeah, and we graciously forgave you for that misstep, now please never mention it again."

"England is where football is from Harvey, you should show them more respect."

"I'll respect them when they actually learn how to play football."

"I'll start respecting both of you when you understand what offside is", Donna cut in, setting down the first couple of caipirinhas on the table and flashing them a bright grin.

"She's not wrong."

Her eyes narrowed on Mike at his words, all lightness gone in the matter of seconds. "You." She poked a finger into his chest and he fell back on the sofa with a surprised sound. "I'm not talking to you today, so shut it."

"Aww, are you that scared Brazil is gonna get its ass kicked by us again?"

"Stop saying 'us' like you're German", Rachel commented without looking up from her file.

Mike put a hand over his chest, rising from his seat once more and blinking innocently. "But I am German at heart. _Ich bin ein Berliner._ "

Everyone groaned and now it was Harvey that pushed him back on the couch. "I will throw you off the balcony", he warned.

Mike frowned. "It's not my fault Donna can't take a joke."

"You don't joke about the semi-finale of 2014, nothing about that day was funny."

"You do if you're German", he grinned.

"You're not German", five voices yelled back.

He grumbled, opening another bottle of his beer. "Spießer."

.

20 minutes before kickoff, Donna started excessively biting her inner cheek. Ten minutes before kickoff – the players were already on the pitch – she was walking up and down Harvey's window façade, continuously throwing glances at the TV. Whenever her eyes found Mike's, he winked at her and took a sip from his goddamn German beer, only furthering her anxiety. Her heels were stomping a colourful new pattern into Harvey's expensive parquet floor.

"Can someone stop her for Christ's sake?", Louis finally snapped. Donna's step swayed for a second and she raised her brows, as if daring anyone else to speak up before continuing her walk up and down the window façade, now in an even more uneven rhythm.

"She's making me nervous even though I have nothing to be nervous about."

"Don't blame her, Louis." Mike leaned back triumphantly. "Brazil lost the last world cup match 7-1 against Germany, Donna just knows what's coming for her."

Rachel elbowed him.

"What? It's not my fault, I just picked the right team to support."

They were interrupted by the whistle being blown and Donna cursed underneath her breath, barely sitting down on the edge of her seat. Mike clicked his tongue. "Ready to lose, Red?"

"Hey", Harvey barked. Mike's eyes snapped to the side to meet his. "Back off."

Now he had Donna's eyes on him, too.

"Seriously?", Mike scoffed. "You're taking _her_ side on this?"

Harvey ignored the insinuation in his words. "I just want you to shut up and leave her alone so we can watch the game in peace."

Mike shook his head. "Unbelievable. I went to prison for you, least you could do is support my team."

Jessica snorted. "Boy, you really stop at nothing to win."

"I'll get to be his boss for two weeks, of course I want to win."

"May I remind you that the actual bet you should be concerned about is winning Taylor Jones as your client?"

Mike dismissed his wife with a wave of his hand. "Where's the fun in that." Something about his own sentence seemed to have brought up a new thought and he eyed Donna again. "What do _you_ get out of it?"

Donna's stare darted to Harvey for just a split second but it was enough to make him freeze.

Did she remember? She'd said she didn't remember anything.

Had she been lying this entire time?

Mike observed them carefully but said nothing. Donna corrected her posture and her eyes went back to the screen. "Nothing", she said at last, a small smile on her face. "I just love being right."

Normally, Mike would call her out on her bullshit because she was clearly lying. He opened his mouth to do just that when he felt a hard pinch on his right upper arm. "Honey", Rachel hissed so lowly no one else could hear, "No offense but you need to learn when to shut your fucking mouth."

Mike rolled his eyes but ended up swallowing down his comeback. He did promise Rachel not to get involved in their messes anymore, and he didn't wanna humiliate Donna, either. Instead, he took another sip of his beer and went back to concentrate on the game.

It was a tense match, a fight over every ball, every foul, every freekick.

Harvey's eyes nearly fell out of his head when Donna fled to the balcony at half time to have a _smoke_ because Germany had scored the leading goal six minutes prior. "Since when are you smoking?", he yelled after her, shushing Mike with a warning look.

"Since Brazil is shitting the bed right now", Donna yelled back without turning around.

Mike was already half out his seat when Harvey shook his head. "Don't you dare."

"I wasn't gonna do anything", Mike protested. "Are you gonna keep me from having a smoke with her?"

"Wow", Rachel intervened, "you're practically begging to sleep on the couch tonight."

Harvey skipped over that since it obviously wasn't aimed at him. "I'll go."

"Yeah, I bet that's gonna make her feel way better." Mike's sarcastic facial expression was quickly replaced by guilt when he saw the look on Harvey's face. "Sorry. Go if you want, I'll stay out of it."

"You better."

Harvey made his way outside, staying two steps behind her when she still didn't bother turning around. After a few tense seconds, her shoulders slumped in defeat. She held out her cigarette package. "You want one?"

It wasn't much, but it was something.

He could go back inside but then again, he would be running away just like she always accused him of. He'd survive a goddamn cigarette break without starting another fight. He could keep himself from throwing her accusation right back in her face because he had been _fine_ ; he'd been fucking fantastic in his mirror of a perfect relationship until she smashed that mirror in by kissing him and showing him the real truth behind it, bringing everything he'd buried inside himself back to the surface only to turn around and run away to later claim she didn't feel anything. Just when he'd been ready to admit that he did.  
As far as he was concerned, as much as he was to blame for a lot of their troubles over the years, _this_ mess was her fault. He'd made himself available, despite what she'd done, despite everything, and she'd walked away, fully aware it would leave him with the short end of the stick.

He took a deep breath and stepped beside her, taking a cigarette but not lighting it up. Instead, he watched her from the corner of his eye. "How are you holding up?"

She scoffed, some smoke escaping her mouth and wafting through the air. "How do you think?"

Harvey bit his inner cheek, trying not to let his anger get the better of him. "I can leave you alone if you want."

Donna's laugh was hollow. "Yeah, I bet you can."

"Wow. Okay." Harvey flipped the unused cigarette over the balustrade, a sour taste in his mouth despite not having taken a single drag. He was already back at the door when Donna raised her voice again. "What do you want me to do, Harvey?"

He turned around, meeting her cold stare. Her back was now pressed against the balustrade as if she was seeking for stability. He blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "I want things to go back to the way they were. Before everything."

She raised her brows. "Before everything", she repeated. "That's not very specific."

"You know what I'm talking about."

"And what if I don't?"

Her provocations made his anger flare up again. "You want me to say it? Fine, I'll say it. I want to go back to the way things were before you kissed me, Donna because that screwed everything up."

She didn't answer immediately. She never did when he was this blunt. She kept on demanding honesty from him but when he gave it to her she always reacted deflecting, with answers that sounded rehearsed; with answers that didn't seem to fit. As if she didn't want to aknowledge it.

"It shouldn't have", she eventually said.

"Well, it did", he bit back.

"I though we were over that?", she repeated her words from over a month ago. From the night before she resigned. From before she'd left, and he chose having nothing with her over not having her at all. It made him furious.

"You know what, Donna? Just because you've decided you're _over it_ doesn't mean everyone else is. Just because you've had time to prepare and figure your shit out doesn't mean everyone else was ready when you kissed me. Just because you didn't— ", he inhaled sharply, stopping himself at the last second.

She squinted her eyes. "Just because I didn't _what?_ "

"Never mind. You were very clear about the whole thing when we talked afterwards." He shrugged, trying to hide the tremble in his shoulders. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I just need to _get over it_."

Donna seemed stunned. After a beat she opened her mouth to answer when Mike's voice cut in. "Guys, the second half is starting, you better get inside!"

Harvey gave her a small, quite miserable smile. "Saved by the kid."

.

The second half proved to be even worse. Donna'd thought things between them couldn't possibly get any tenser but as it turned out, their talk on the balcony had done nothing to clear the air. Maybe her biggest problem was that he'd turned things around, leaving the ball in her court. It was an unusual feeling. She absolutely hated it.

And besides that, Brazil was still losing.

Sometime during the 70th minute, Rachel pressed the third caipirinha in her hand. Donna could only answer that with a smile. "Thanks, Rach."

"Are you okay?", her friend whispered.

Donna tilted her head. "Of course."

"Am I expected to buy th—"

"No!", Mike yelled, crawling further into his seat. Donna on the other hand rose from her chair with a long roar, mindlessly throwing what she had in her hand in Mike's direction.

"Alright, go Brazil", Louis exclaimed, nodding appreciatory when the replay of Neymar's goal was shown on-screen. Donna squeezed a pretty shocked Rachel, smudging the Brazilian flags her friend had painted on her cheeks in solidarity. Harvey stared at them – at Donna –, his jaw almost on the floor.

"What?", she asked defensively.

"Did you just throw a _caipirinha_ in Mike's face?"

Donna halted. "Umm… no?"

Mike cleared his throat, bringing everyone's attention to him while he was wiping his wet face and peeling a piece of lemon out of his hair. "Pretty sure you did."

Rachel approached him hurriedly, obviously trying to supress her laughter. "Babe, are you alright?"

"Sure, I've always wanted to get knocked out by having a glass thrown against my temple."

A snicker escaped Jessica's lips. "What?", she laughed when Mike gave her an annoyed look. "Donna threw her freaking drink at you without noticing what she was doing. That's hilarious."

"The bruise on my forehead says otherwise", Mike snapped, but there was a hint of humour in his eyes.

"I can't believe your thick head didn't shatter the glass", Harvey quipped, picking said glass up from the floor and examining it. "Guess it's really worth the money I paid for it."

"Of course it is. I picked it out, after all." Donna smirked shortly, then cleared her throat and put her hand on Mike's shoulder. "I'm sorry, pup. I didn't mean to assault you. Though you technically deserve it after being an asshole all day."

"Well, that apology stayed sincere for two seconds", he commented dryly, wincing when she patted his cheek lovingly. "You're a dangerous woman, Paulsen."

Harvey looked at Donna when he said, "You're only getting that now?"

"Dangerous or not, will you please move out of the way so I can see the screen?"

Donna rolled her eyes but followed Louis' request and settled down next to him.

And next to Harvey.

Not that he noticed.

Or cared.

"I have a feeling this will go into penalty shoot-outs", Jessica hummed at the start of the extra time.

"Nope", Donna dismissed her right away.

To her surprise, Mike agreed, shaking his head repeatedly. "That's not gonna happen."

Jessica raised her eyebrows. "Why not?"

"Because I hate them", Mike and Donna said at the same time. He grinned in her direction. "You know, we might disagree on the teams but you're my only equal here."

Donna threw him a wink, raising her new glass so they could toast. "Right back at you, _Schatzie._ "

Harvey groaned. "Get a room, you two. We'll watch the penalty shoot-out in the meantime."

"There won't be a penalty shoot-out!"

There was a penalty shoot-out.

Every bit of light-hearted teasing went away the moment the final whistle blew and the teams assembled to prepare for what was about to come.

Donna was way too sober for this shit.

Mike had drunken way too much beer to control his nervous bladder and sit through the entire thing.

"Come on, come on, come on", Donna whispered, clutching Louis' arm with so much force he let out a weak yelp. Rachel was running her hand soothingly through her husband's hair and down his neck.

"I think I get it now", Louis gasped after Germany missed its second penalty and Mike started _praying_ in German. "Why you two hate penalty shoot-outs, I mean. It's torture."

"Louis if you don't shut the fuck up I'll knock the teeth right out of your head."

"What, by throwing a caipirinha at me like Donna did with you?", Louis scoffed. His comment was drowned by Mike's yell when the German goalkeeper saved the next penalty. Donna sank from the sofa onto the floor in a fluid motion, her lips were moving constantly, yet nothing but unintelligible whispers came out.

Harvey stared at her kneeling in front of him, seeing only the back of her head, her stiff, back and forth rocking posture and the Paulsen jersey she was wearing, and he thought to himself if there'd been one thing he'd done right in the past month, it'd been buying her this goddamn kit.  
For the rest of the shoot-out, he watched the game merely through Donna's reactions, all these moments of awe he's had for her passion over the last weeks catching up with him and reaching its point of culmination when the Brazilian goalkeeper saved the decisive penalty, thus leading his team into the final of the world cup.

Donna let out a long, ear-piercing shriek and stumbled forward while trying to get up on her feet, almost falling face first into Harvey's glass table if he wouldn't've caught her arm by wrapping his hand around it. She spun around to thank him, their eyes meeting and the fire in her dilated pupils taking him aback.

And then, before he knew it, she'd pulled him into a hug; not a cautious, friendly hug like the one they'd shared after they had tried to mend the fences, but a spontaneous, unplanned hug with her arms slung around his neck, his face full of her hair and his hands wrapped around her waist, lifting her off the ground without noticing. He was still entranced by her; by her behaviour. How this sport seemed to bring out her emotions completely unfiltered in all their intensity, and now that she was wrapped all around him, breathing against his neck with her fingers ghosting through the short hair on the back of his head – exactly like they'd done when she kissed him – he fully understood. And just for this moment, he was ready to accept it as well.

He was helplessly and utterly in love with her, he had been for more than a decade, and no matter what she would say or do to him, he would never be able to let her go.

Harvey kept his eyes firmly closed, suddenly thankful for her hair shielding his face from the others since he was pretty damn sure his lower lip was trembling. They disentangled themselves slowly, both unwilling to let this moment – and each other – go just yet. While pulling back, caught in the heat of the moment, their lips brushed for less than a second, by accident or on purpose nobody would ever know, but it was like a lighting bolt appearing in the night sky so shortly you could think you'd imagined it if you blinked.

The jolt that went through Donna's entire body at the touch was there nonetheless, reminding her of where she was and what she was doing. She hastily took a step back, only to have Harvey looking back at her with a spectacularly dumb look on his face; like she'd just smashed a glass against _his_ temple and not Mike's.

Neither of them noticed the four others observing the pair, Jessica with a knowing smirk and Louis with an unsubtle grin on his face, Mike and Rachel with Mike's arm slung around her shoulder. "They won't last another week now", Mike whispered in her ear.

"They're stubborn", Rachel objected.

Their eyes met.

"One last bet?"

"One last bet."

.

* * *

 _ **my german-ness really jumped out in this chapter, I'd like to apologise for any shade thrown towards another country or football team I promise it's all in good fun (laura, if you're reading this I'm sorry france somehow doesn't feature at all in this fic, apparently my subconcious is even pettier than I thought lmao).**_

 _ **also, d**_ _ **onna is definitely,**_ **definitely** _ **one of those people that smoke when they're nervous and I won't accept any other opinion thank u for listening.**_

 _ **penalty shoot-outs are the worst. that is a fact as well.**_

 ** _chapter five will reveal what happened that night harvey brought donna to his place and they made a bet she 'doesn't remember' and without spoiling anything, I think we all know the final was always going to be harvey vs donna so get ready for the trash._**

 _ **and finally, German words:**_

 _ **\- "Spießer" (or Spiesser) basically means being uptight/not knowing how to have fun/having a stick up your ass and it's one of the greatest german words ever invented, especially because so many germans are exactly like that**_

 _ **\- "Ich bin ein Berliner." You should all know this one, I kinda used it to make fun of the way everyone else makes fun of us**_

 _ **\- "Schatzie" means sweetheart/treasure**_

 _ **thanks for putting up with me and this weird little fic, schatzies xxx**_


	5. 5 - Full Time

_**hello my schatzies, I didn't get to finish this chapter before christmas, but I hope you'll forgive me for the small delay. I needed to figure out how much I still had left to say in this fic, given that it was supposed to stay small and light, and I also struggled a lot with the fluff (again). the result is... man, it's just weird that I've written something like this. nobody's dying, so i think i'm losing my touch.**_

 _ **heh.**_

 _ **the song appearing towards the end of the chapter is called "dew on the vine" by bear's den and I may have had it on repeat for hours while writing harvey and donna's** **moments**_ _ **so feel free to check it out if you want to understand the vibe of the scenes better.**_

 _ **anyway, I'm not gonna make a big deal out of the fact that this is the first story I have ever completed in my entire life (though it is a**_ **damn** _ **big deal for someone like me who's been writing since she was old enough to form words), I just hope you like this chapter and it feels like a fitting ending to this world cup summer.  
**_

 _ **P. xx**_

* * *

" _If football has taught me anything, it is that you can overcome anything  
if – and only if – you love something enough."  
– Lionel Messi_

* * *

 **#5: Full time**

.

"Are you ready?", Mike asked him Friday morning.

"Ready for what?" Harvey leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen on the open stack of files in front of him.

Mike sat up on the armchair. "Spain got through. They beat Croatia, which means your team will face Donna's team in the final." He chuckled to himself. "Seems kinda meant to be."

"And why's that?", Harvey asked, annoyed.

Mike rolled his eyes. "Nevermind."

"Either way, shouldn't _you_ be more excited for the game tomorrow? Germany can still win 3rd place if they beat Croatia."

"Eh." Mike shrugged. "Been there, done that. That game has always been pointless. And besides, after your team beat both of Jessica's teams in the span of a few days, I'm afraid she'll rip me a new one if my team beats hers as well."

Harvey hummed.

"I hate to even say this, but we have a bigger problem than football", Louis announced, strolling into the office with his usual determent pace.

"What is it, Louis?"

"Taylor Jones called."

Harvey tensed. "And?"

"Well good news is, he doesn't seem to mind England losing their quarter final. Bad news is, he's still very hesitant and won't budge on his terms."

"Meaning?"

Louis threw Mike an exasperated look before focusing back on Harvey. "Meaning it's a bad deal. He was supposed to be our biggest new client and yet we don't get shit out of it."

"Did you seal the deal?"

"No, not without running it by you and Jessica first."

Harvey nodded. "Good."

"Good?", Louis mimicked. "It's not good. He's not going to give in, Harvey. There's a reason he called _me_ although I'm not handling the negotiations anymore. He wanted to let me know he hasn't forgotten what happened."

"I get that, Louis."

"Then why are you so calm?"

"Because", Harvey said, getting up from his chair and walking over to his fellow name partner to pat him on the shoulder, "Spain is gonna win the world cup this Sunday and when they do, I'll win the bet and I'll handle Taylor Jones."

"You really think you can sway him?", Louis asked.

"You really still think Spain is gonna win?", Mike scoffed.

Harvey pointed a finger in his direction. "You, shut up. And you", another pat on Louis' shoulder, "I'll mention that you bet on England to get you back into his good graces. Now, both of you get your lazy asses back to work while I'll get myself some coffee."

He left the room, ignoring that Mike yelled after him, asking to bring him a cup, too.

Louis scratched his temple, bewildered by Harvey's behaviour. "Why is he in such a good mood?"

"Probably because his lips had a 1.2-second-long contact with Donna's", Mike grinned.

"You two assholes know I can hear everything, right?", Donna's voice cut in from the intercom.

.

It would be weird going back to no football, Harvey thought Saturday noon, cooped up between Louis and Rachel on the couch in Jessica's office, watching his managing partner dance and hurl very unlady-like words in Mike's direction following Croatia's second goal of the day.

Weird, and a bit sad.

The games had given the group an excuse to hang out practically all day, both during and outside of work, making them grow closer than ever before and letting them bond over something nobody ever thought they'd bond over. He wouldn't miss all the drinking on an empty stomach, though. He was too old to do shots at nine in the morning, or to attend a meeting with a dick drawn on his face, or to save three high girls from making utter fools of themselves in the local pub.

But everything else, he was pretty sure he'd miss.

Maybe he'd get them all into club football, just to have something else to bet on. Not because he was addicted to football now. Nope, that did not happen. He'd resisted that like a champ.

He winced when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Are you listening?", Rachel asked softly. He shot her an apologetic glance. "Sorry. I guess I must've drifted off when Jessica yelled her billionth curse word in a row." His lips twitched into an involuntarily fond smile.

"I'll miss it, too", Rachel said casually, eyes trained on the TV-screen.

"What do you mean?"

"Come on", she chuckled. "It's okay to admit you've had fun this past month even if you didn't intend to."

"I've never had less fun in my life", Harvey gave back vehemently, quietly cursing himself for wearing his jersey, and for still smiling.

Rachel grinned. "Liar. You love football almost as much as you love us."

"I hate _soccer_ and I— "

Donna's head snapped around to look at them and Harvey groaned, knowing fully well what she was about to say. "Did I just hear the forbidden word?"

He filled up his shot glass in defeat, raising it before drinking. "To this world cup. The most stressful four weeks of my life. I hated every minute of it."

The others mimicked his motion. "To this world cup", Jessica agreed. "It was quite an experience. And whoever wins it— ", she toasted in Donna's direction, "almost doesn't matter."

"Almost."

" _Almost._ "

"Cheers everyone!"

Harvey shuddered after taking his shot. "I still hate vodka."

.

" _Donna", Harvey groaned exasperatedly, "Come on, you gotta work with me."_

" _Work with you on what? Do you need help laying a new floor?" Donna giggled._

" _I want you to stand upright for like two seconds so I can get the key in the door."_

" _Or maybe you want me to_ kick in _the door?"_

" _As if you could even lift a foot from the floor in your state."_

" _I so could."_

" _No, you couldn't."_

" _Watch." Donna untangled her arms from his steady grip, immediately swaying on the spot without his support. She threw him a cheeky grin and –_

 _Actually straight up kicked against Harvey's apartment door._

 _His eyes almost fell out of his head. "Donna, what the— "_

 _She shrieked, losing her balance and falling backwards, her body hitting the floor with a dull thud._

 _Harvey sighed. "I told you that you couldn't lift a foot off the ground."_

" _That is the second time I fell today", Donna observed, sitting up on her elbows with mild interest in her eyes. "I never fall."_

" _Yeah, yeah, you were born in heels, now can you get off the freaking floor so we can go inside?"_

 _Donna murmured something that sounded suspiciously like "grumpy pants", but nevertheless, she managed to get back on her feet, her back seeking stability right away by leaning against the wall._

 _Harvey somehow managed to open his door and get the giggling mess that was Donna over the threshold. He gestured to one of the chairs at the kitchen counter and ordered her to sit down. "I need to get some stuff to take care of that gap in your forehead."_

" _I don't have a gap in my forehead", Donna protested, reaching up to feel for herself. Harvey rolled his eyes. "You're bleeding. Out of a gap. That's on your forehead."_

 _Donna's eyes widened when she saw the blood on her fingers. "I_ am _bleeding."_

" _You don't say. Now sit. I'll be right back."_

 _When Harvey came back into the room, Donna had settled down on top of the counter with a bright grin on her face; her legs were dangling from the edge, her heels bumping against the counter in a light, unsteady rhythm._

" _That's not what I meant by sitting down."_

" _You didn't specify."_

 _He was too tired to argue. "Touché."_

 _Harvey started tending her wound with a concentrated look on his face, his eyes focused on his hands and the cut above her right eyebrow, only meeting hers when she let out a sharp hiss. "Sorry", he murmured, continuing to clean the wound._

" _I hope it won't leave a scar" she gave back quickly, still with an unsteady stare. Her eyes kept travelling from his hands to his eyes, nose, lips and even all the way up to his hair. "Though if it does, I suppose it'll be a nice memory."_

 _Harvey let out a low chuckle. "I doubt you'll remember much about tonight."_

 _He'd just smeared a cool-feeling paste over the cut when she suddenly cupped his face in both her hands. "Well, in that case…"_

 _He immediately escaped her grip and reached for her elbow instead. "How are your hands?"_

 _Her brows furrowed. "Why?"_

" _You fell into a crapload of shards."_

 _Donna opened her hands, offering her palms for him to observe. "Totally fine, just like I'm fine. So you can quit worrying and look at me for a second."_

 _His hands fumbled with the paste. "All done then."_

" _Harvey."_

 _He closed his eyes. "_ What? _"_

" _Why won't you look at me?"_

 _Harvey bit his inner cheek. Truth was, he was too aware of what they were doing right at this moment. He was too aware of how close he was to her, how he was basically trapped in between her legs. He was too aware of how far gone she was. What if he'd give in and she'd view it as a mistake the next morning? Actually, he knew she would. She'd apologise for crossing a line – again –, promising him it meant nothing, to let him and herself off the hook. But to him, it did mean something, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep pretending it didn't._

 _Harvey let out a long breath and finally met her stare. "You should go to bed."_

 _Donna seemed taken aback. "Into… your bed?"_

" _I'll take the couch."_

" _You don't have to— "_

" _Yeah", he stopped her. "I do."_

 _For a split second, she appeared to be completely sober, sincere even. "Thank you, Harvey. For tonight."_

" _Don't mention it."_

" _I'm sure I won't. We never do, right?" She hopped off the counter and patted his chest. "Hey, let's make a deal."_

" _What kind of deal?"_

" _A deal. A bet. We don't have a bet yet."_

" _Because we have nothing to bet on."_

" _We might."_

 _And just like that, they were in dangerous territory again._

 _Donna squinted her eyes. "If Brazil wins, you man up and ask me out on a date."_

 _Harvey huffed out a noise and took a step back. "You're only saying that because you're drunk. And high."_

 _Her look was calculating. "Maybe. But you're gonna be too chicken to go through with it anyway, so what the hell."_

 _She was going for his competitive side. It was blatantly obvious, but still, it was working. "Fine", Harvey shot back. "But if Spain wins, you tell me the truth about why you kissed me that night, and what happened afterwards."_

" _Alright, Specter. Let's shake on it." She held out her hand and he took it before he could change his mind._

 _And just like that, a part of him desperately wished she'd remember everything in the morning._

.

Harvey woke up on Sunday morning with a sense of melancholia. It felt like something special was ending, something he wasn't quite ready to let go of. He thought back on the dream he just had (knowing full well it was more a memory of bringing her home that night than an actual fictional dream), when his thoughts were interrupted by loud rumbling coming from his living room. Harvey frowned, setting his blanket aside to get up and find out the cause of the noise.

To his surprise, the person he found at the other side of his bedroom door was a very startled Donna. She was halfway through decorating his condo with Brazilian and Irish flags but froze when the door opened. "Umm… hey", she said sheepishly. "You weren't supposed to wake up until I was done."

Harvey rubbed his eyes.

Nope, he wasn't imagining it.

She was still standing in the middle of the room with a stuffed furry Irish heart in her hand, looking utterly ridiculous being surrounded by all this junk.

"How the _hell_ did you get in here?"

"Oh please", she rolled her eyes, setting the heart down next to the TV. "Don't you ever get tired of asking this question?"

Harvey took a long breath. "Fine. What are you doing here, then? What is all of this?" He spread out his arms and looked around, spying a _Spain sucks_ sticker on his fridge amongst other offensive things.

"I told you I'd get back at you for choosing Argentina as your second team."

Harvey's eyes widened. "That was over a week ago!"

"So? I make good on my promises." She grabbed a bunch of paper streamers and before Harvey could move a muscle, she'd blown them all over his couch.

"I could've sworn you were too high and drunk on Tequila to remember that", he grumbled, rubbing his forehead when the second set of paper streamers – green and orange this time – landed on his kitchen counter.

"You'd be surprised of the number of things I can remember."

Harvey eyed her suspiciously. "What is that supposed to m— ", he cut himself off when he saw what she was picking up from behind the kitchen counter. He took a step a back. "Don't you dare."

Donna looked back at him, confetti cannon in hand and calculating her next move.

A shrug.

"I keep my promises."

His yelled warning was drowned by a loud bang the moment she pulled the trigger. For a few seconds, he couldn't see a fucking thing. Through the following, deafening silence, Harvey and Donna stared at each other. Thousands of small, green and yellow confetti pieces landed on every surface in sight, including the two people standing in the middle of the chaos.

"That", Donna finally said, looking around in awe and laughing when he peeled confetti out of his hair with a highly unamused look on his face, "was even more satisfying than I hoped."

"You're gonna regret this", he said slowly.

She raised her brows. "Bring it, Specter."

For the first time since he woke up, a smile stole itself on his face. She'd really covered his entire goddamn apartment in confetti before he even had his first coffee. It was completely ridiculous. "You know, this competitiveness brings out the worst side of you", he teased.

She scoffed. "Don't act like this isn't the most fun you've had since Mike first joined the firm."

Harvey smirked, taking a step forward. "And what if the fun ends?"

"Why would the fun end?"

"It's gonna end the second you'll regret putting up these decorations."

Donna closed the distance between them, refusing to back down. "You can't hurt me."

"Oh, can't I?" It was meant as another taunt, but it came out breathlessly, almost unsure.

Her posture wavered for a moment, her gaze flickering and he knew where it would go next. But this time, he didn't follow. This time, he kept his eyes trained on hers when her stare slid down and stopped at his lips.

Her entire presence overwhelmed him, but most of all her scent. He caught a trace of vanilla in it. Harvey's stomach flipped violently, and he didn't know what he would've done if she hadn't started talking again.

"No", she said, and all the lightness in her tone was gone, replace by something thicker; something serious. Their eyes met again. "No, you can't."

Her words contradicted the story that was told by the rest of her face. Harvey didn't think he'd ever caught her lying this quickly ever before. And maybe that's why he decided to let it go.

That, or maybe he was just too much of a coward to take the risk and call her out on it.

Donna cleared her throat and took a step back. "I guess I'll see you later for the game."

"Right."

"Right."

She hesitated for a moment, hands clutched around her handbag.

"Donna— "

"Bye, Harvey."

.

Sunday afternoon, Harvey's entire apartment was vibrating with excitement. It was the last time this summer that the gang would meet up to watch football. The last time they could tease each other over how much all the teams but their own sucked, the last time they could announce they didn't care that much anyway although their eyes were glued to the screen, the last time they had to drink a shot of that godawful vodka every time a team they hadn't bet on scored.

Rachel, Jessica and Mike had all sided with Donna and shamelessly supported Brazil, waving their flags in solidarity. Louis had taken pity on Harvey, but his support for Spain seemed half-hearted at its best.

Harvey was nervous.

He hadn't thought that much of _the_ bet before today. He'd been successful at pushing it down, justifying it by thinking Donna didn't remember anything, so he shouldn't waste any time on something that basically didn't happen, anyway. But after her strange behaviour over the last couple of days, he wasn't so sure about that anymore. She was holding something back, just like she had done after she'd kissed him. He wasn't sure he was ready to hear it, if she would ever tell him.

He wasn't sure whether a simple football game should come with so much extended baggage.

"Harvey", Mike called impatiently, "are we gonna start drinking or what?"

"Yes, please."

Donna shot him a curious glance before going back to her conversation with Rachel (something about tactics and the advantages of playing with a flat back three), and Harvey got up to get the beers.

In the minute it took him to go to his fridge and back, Rachel, Louis, Jessica and Mike had all settled down, leaving two spots next to each other for himself and Donna.

"Your teams are playing, so you two ought to have the best seats", Mike explained, but there was something in his eyes that convinced Harvey he wasn't being honest.

"Don't you mean my team is gonna _crush_ Donna's?"

The redhead scoffed, adjusted her jersey and sat down, her own beer already in her hand. "Yeah, right. I saw Spain's line-up and I'm tempted to bet that this won't even go into extra time."

"You should stop betting on things that tempt you. You might regret it later", Harvey couldn't help but murmur.

She held his stare. "Interesting thought. Do you have more of those?"

"Oh, I have plenty of thoughts on this."

"What's happening?", Louis whispered.

"Hell, who knows at this point", Mike sighed, spluttering beer all over himself in the next second because Rachel tweaked him in the side. "Yes, I know, staying out of it. But I do have to sit here you know."

His wife squinted her eyes disapprovingly. "How about you concentrate on the game that's about to start."

The group fell silent while the national anthems played. Harvey couldn't help but cross himself the moment before kick-off and earned himself a loud snort from Jessica in return. "Seriously?", she laughed.

"Don't judge me, I can't afford to take any unnecessary risks. There's a lot at play here."

"Like what?"

Harvey gave Mike a serious look. "Like my honour."

Mike rolled his eyes.

"Oh my— "

"GOD", Louis joined Rachel's disbelieving gasp.

Jessica's eyes flickered from the screen to Donna, then Harvey, then back to the match. "It's in."

Mike's jaw dropped. "They've been playing for a minute."

Donna still hadn't moved from her spot. She seemed genuinely speechless.

"It's in, Donna", Jessica repeated. "Brazil is leading."

"Freaking Pique", Harvey snarled, still reeling from the shock. "I always knew his best days were behind him."

"A few days ago you swore you'd worship the ground he walks on forever", Louis reminded him.

Mike bit his lip. "Looks like your team is going down the drain. Along with your honour."

Harvey finished his beer, anxiously scraping at the label on the bottle. "The game's not over yet. In fact, it has barely started."

"I can't believe they're gonna win this", Donna aspirated. She'd never been this quiet after a Brazilian goal. " _I'm_ gonna win this."

"You can't know that yet!"

Her gaze flickered to the man sitting next to her, giving herself a moment to take him in; him and his Spanish jersey and the uneasy look on his face and the empty bottle he held onto with a firm grip. Following a sudden impulse, she tilted his head to her side with a slight pressure of her fingers against his chin. His eyes widened, searching her face for something that gave away her intentions.

"I'm Donna", she said. "I know."

He didn't answer. He didn't have to. Donna could see that he was thinking the same thing.

"Does anyone have any idea what the hell is happening?", Louis muttered in Jessica's reaction.

Mike didn't even bother to hide his grin. He was looking at Rachel when he answered, "I'm winning my bet, that's what's happening."

"And we're all very happy for you", Jessica commented drily. "Now can we please go back to the game?"

Louis jerked his head in Harvey's and Donna's direction. They were still staring at each other. "You should tell them that."

As it turned out, Jessica didn't have to move a muscle because the referee whistle brought Donna's attention back to the TV. "That was on purpose", she howled, giving Sergio Ramos, a Spanish player, the finger. "He should be kicked off the pitch for that."

"There she is", Mike smiled. "Can't say I blame her for her hatred towards Sergio Ramos though. That guy is the biggest asshole I have _ever_ — "

Donna cut into his rant with a sharp hiss when the following freekick hit the post.

The chances on both sides kind of piled up after that, so much so that all of them were surprised the result still hadn't changed by halftime. Donna got them the next round of beers, obviously feeling the need to move around but trying to avoid another cigarette break. She also made sure to let everyone know that if she would win the main bet, she'd let Jessica and Rachel negotiate the deal with Taylor Jones. Much to the boys' dismay, she justified that choice by telling them the girls were way more competent both in football and legal knowledge.

Harvey spend the second half in a haze, finding it hard to concentrate on the game while his mind was occupied by one thought: The moment the game was over, they would have to talk. After years and years of avoiding it, always finding a way to go back to the way things used to be (or at least pretend that they did), it now seemed inevitable. After all this time, they'd finally reached a point of no return. A part inside of him wondered if it was really that, or if maybe, just maybe, they were at a point where they didn't _want_ to go back anymore.

Still, it was frightening.

He watched the seconds tick down on the screen, didn't flinch when Iniesta almost scored the equalizer for Spain, didn't react when Brazil decided the game early after a beautiful long-range shot from Marcelo, didn't even look up when Donna danced around the room, hugging a screaming Rachel and kissing Mike on the cheek. He just kept looking at the clock, fascinated by how it kept on ticking, going from the 87th to the 88th minute as if nothing happened while the Brazilian team went completely nuts on the field.

It was almost over.

It was almost full time.

There would be a new world champion.

A new chapter.

When the final whistle blew, Harvey rose from his seat to face his defeat. But it took one look at Donna's face and it didn't feel like a defeat anymore. Everything, from the way she was wearing her jersey to her reddened cheeks, the messy, curly hair and the fiery passion burning in her eyes was just like it had been all month and he found himself drinking it in one last time before they had to go back to the real world the coming Monday.

Donna cleared her throat, resisting the urge to hug him again. She had to rub her win in his face, after all, and that had priority. To her surprise, Harvey stretched out his hand.

"Congratulations", he said, and she was even more startled by how serious it sounded. There was no teasing in his voice, no sarcasm.

She took his hand and shook it, feeling her breath hitch at the touch.

Their conversation seemed to get lost in the chaos around them when Mike found the confetti canon that Donna had left at Harvey's place in the morning. And Mike being Mike, he couldn't resist pulling the trigger. Still not letting go of her hand, Harvey looked up and watched the confetti rain down on them, his soft laugh drowned by the screams of their friends that were messing around in front of the screen. But Donna's eyes were trained on him, seeing how his face lit up in excitement, how his honest laughter and tousled hair made him look so much younger than he was.

Something tucked at her heartstrings, an emotion way stronger than happiness over a won game – or a won bet –, familiar but so strong that she usually held it back. But now she let it wash over her with all its intensity and all the complications that feeling brought with it, no matter that it dared to overwhelm her.

Harvey shook his head, still laughing, still holding her stretched-out hand. Their eyes locked. "A confetti canon", he chuckled, now entrapping her with both his touch and his eyes. "You're impossible."

Donna gaped back at him, completely unable to react, when suddenly she felt his thumb stroking over her wrist and then move all the way to the inside of her palm. It was nothing but a featherlight touch at first, like he was testing the waters and trying to see her reaction, so subtle that no one around them would notice the difference. She felt goose bumps starting from where he touched her before it spread up and down her body. He could feel it, too, judging from the look in his eyes and the slow, steady circles he was now drawing all over her hand.

"Harveeeeey", Mike slurred, wrapping his arm over his friend's shoulder and pushing him a bit closer to Donna in the process. "Have you congratulated her yet?"

And just like that, the moment was gone.

Donna drew her hand back in a quick motion, giving them a tight smile. "I'm gonna get some air."

Harvey made sure she was out of his sight before he turned around and gave Mike a hard punch in the gut.

"Dude", Mike gasped, writhing in pain. Rachel was at his side in the blink of an eye. "What the fuck, Harvey?!"

"You _asshole_ ", Harvey hissed, ignoring Rachel staring daggers at him. "What'd you interrupt us for?"

"I wasn't interrupting shit."

"Yes, you were! We were— ", Harvey faltered and lowered his voice to make sure nobody could overhear the next bit. "We were having a moment."

Now it was Rachel's turn to hit Mike. "You interrupted their _moment_?"

"Ow! Can you two stop assaulting me? I wasn't aware I was interrupting anything, you were just standing here."

Rachel groaned in frustration. "I am married to a schmuck."

"They were literally just staring at each other", Mike gave back defensively, "how was I supposed to know this time was different from all the other times? But you know what?" He turned back to Harvey. "It's not too late, go after her. Go have your moment."

Harvey rolled his eyes. "It is too late now, I can hardly turn back the time and bring _the moment_ back."

Out of nowhere, Jessica appeared, Louis right behind her. "Harvey", she said impatiently, her eyes boring themselves into his until he felt like he was going to squirm under her glare. "Stop being a fucking idiot and go outside to have your _moment_ before I kick your ass until you can't sit straight for at least a month."

"But— "

"Go", Rachel agreed, already pushing him towards the balcony, "before I start hitting you, too."

Harvey looked back at his friends, how they were physically blocking his way back, quite literally forcing him to keep walking forward, to Donna. And he was baffled.

Baffled, and maybe a little touched.

He grinned nervously.

"Don't screw it up", Mike warned.

"Can you just stop talking for crying out loud", Jessica growled as Louis was dragging him away from the balcony door Harvey had just opened.

Donna turned around when she heard the noise from inside, raising her brows when she saw that it took three people to hold Mike back from getting closer to the window. "What's going on in there?"

"Believe me", Harvey said, closing the door behind him, "you don't wanna know."

She gave him a small chuckle and looked down at her hands. "So… is this the right time to say that I've been lying about not remembering anything from the night we made our bets?"

"I don't know", he gave back lightly, "you kind of did a crappy job at hiding it, so I can't say I'm surprised."

She hummed. "I thought offering you a way out was easier than talking about it. We suck at talking about it, in case you haven't noticed."

"Donna?"

"Yeah."

He took a few steps closer to her. "I know I didn't win the bet, but I'm gonna ask anyway: Was it the same thing after the kiss? Were you offering me an out to make it easier? Were you lying when you said you didn't feel anything?"

She still wasn't looking at him when she replied, "you took that way out without thinking twice. So what if I did?"

"That means you're an idiot."

Her head shot up. "Excuse me?!"

Harvey grabbed the balustrade with his hands, trapping her in between. "I said you're an idiot."

"I heard you the first time", she mumbled, not really sure what to do with her hands now that Harvey was so close. She was staring at his arm like it was the most fascinating thing in the world and suddenly, Harvey realised they were in a similar position that they'd been in the night they made the bets; their positions were merely switched.

"Donna."

"What?"

"Quit worrying and look at me for a second."

Something reflecting on her face told him she'd just made the same connection he had when their eyes met. They always connected silently when they allowed themselves to.

"So", Harvey went on quietly, trying to push the nervous part of him down to focus on what was important, "you lied when you said you didn't feel anything kissing me."

Again, the answer was in her eyes.

It gave Harvey the last push he needed. "Well, in that case…"

And he just leaned forward and kissed her, ignoring that part of him that still told him running away would be easier, ignoring that part of him that made his heart clench anxiously, ignoring that part of him that knew he had never been this vulnerable; ignoring how hard his hands were shaking when he brought them up to cup her face.

Ignoring everything except the fact that she was kissing him back.

Donna snuck her hand around his waist and melted against him, kissing him back like they'd never done anything else. Slow, still a bit cautious, but more real than any dream he'd ever had of her, more real even than their last kiss, which happened so unprepared and quick that Harvey couldn't fully remember anything but the confusion he'd felt after.

There was no confusion now. Everything about kissing her felt real, felt right, just as it was supposed to feel.

Because she was kissing him back.

When they pulled apart, Harvey had to take a moment to even out his breath again, his heart hammering against his chest.

"Jessica was right", he finally managed.

Donna tilted her head to the side so that she could see his face. "About what?"

"I really am a fucking idiot."

She let out a snicker, hiding her face against his chest. And just like that, Harvey's heartbeat slowed down.

"You really are." She stole another glance at his face before resting her head over his heart again. "Now what?"

"Now", Harvey grinned, taking her hand, "we go back inside and celebrate your team winning the world cup."

.

It was… different.

A bit weird, even.

There was a slight sense of awkwardness whenever they looked at each other that evening, always smiling from ear to ear, and yet, there were so many things left to talk about. Everything was still left to be defined.

But that was not meant to be solved that night.

That night, they were meant to celebrate with their family. That night, they drank the last couple of vodka shots that they would drink for a long time. That night, they had the pictures of the Brazilian team lifting their trophy in the air engraved in their minds. That night, they saw Mike stretching out his hand with a shit-eating grin on his face, claiming he won his bet against Rachel. That night, they also saw Mike's grin disappear the second Jessica took that win away from him by reminding him of the fact that she'd just won their long time bet. That night, Harvey and Donna realised their friends had been betting on their love lives for several years.

That night, Harvey mindlessly swirled Donna around to a song he could see she adored from the moment Rachel put it on. He gave her an extra twirl at the

 _Keep chasing echoes of my mind,_

 _Babe it's a fine line,_

 _And I'm so far over it,_

 _And I know it._

part, listening to her laughter echoing through the room and feeling the happiness sweeping through him when he pulled her back against his chest, inhaling her scent. Their fingers were still intertwined

"I love this song", she said breathlessly.

"I figured."

"Don't flatter yourself, Specter", she teased, "I would've danced with anybody."

"If you say so", he shot back, immediately switching partners with Louis, now wrapping his arm around Jessica's waist. He saw Donna flipping him off from the corner of his eye before Mike dragged her back on the temporary dancefloor that the TV area had become, leaving Rachel to dance with a delighted Louis who was teaching her something that looked a lot like ballet steps.

"How's your _moment_ going?", Jessica asked.

Harvey picked up the pace to disturb her rhythm, and of course ended up messing his own steps up. "Honestly? Better than expected."

The managing partner let out a blend between a sigh and a chuckle. "So, you two didn't talk at all."

He met her eyes with severity. "We will."

She patted his cheek. "Football, huh? Able to bring even the two most stubborn people together."

Harvey shook his head. All of this in four weeks.

Four weeks that changed so much, and yet they only brought out what had been there all along.

"I guess so."

Later, after Jessica and Louis had already left, Donna was standing next to Rachel, quietly promising her that she would _not_ screw it up this time, while Mike had been wrestling with his jacket behind them for the past 10 minutes.

"Come on, Rachel, let's go", he murmured when he'd finally put it on, his head resting on top of Rachel's shoulder. They looked adorable, Donna thought. Blissful, calm, _happy_.

…Until Rachel shrugged him off. "We can't just leave; this place is a mess."

Donna shook her head firmly. "You go and enjoy the rest of your night, I'll help Harvey clean up."

"But— "

"Yeah babe, let's let Donna help Harvey _clean up_ ", Mike said, a small giggle escaping his lips.

"What's that supposed to mean?", Donna asked, hugging Rachel goodbye and suspiciously eyeing him over the top of her friend's shoulder.

"Nothing, Donna", he smirked as he started to pull his wife away from her. "Just— enjoy _cleaning_. And remember to use prot— I mean _gloves_."

"Ugh, just leave, will you?"

"Already on our way", he exclaimed enthusiastically, waving Harvey goodbye and bumping against Rachel, resulting in another giggle. She turned around and mouthed a _sorry_ in Donna's direction, but she couldn't hide the amusement in her eyes.

Donna smiled at her. She didn't even have to fake it. "Go", she whispered, more to herself than to her friend, but she seemed to have heard it anyway, because Rachel nodded and gave her one last smile before Mike pulled her out of the apartment.

Not knowing what to do with the sudden silence, Donna started cleaning. Between their little party, Donna's decorations and the rough-and-ready dance floor, the entire apartment had turned into one giant messy pile of _mess._

"So, what was that all about?", Harvey asked.

She grabbed a few empty glasses from the coffee table, chuckling. "Oh, you know Mike. He's a shit starter."

He came closer, his hand hovering above her arm. She could feel his body heat radiating around her and had the sudden urge to flee on his balcony again, if only to just take a breath and think this through.

"Harvey", she whispered. "What are we doing?"

He sighed, his fingertips inches away from her skin. He didn't answer.

"Where is this going?"

"Honestly? I have no clue." Donna studied his face while he was moving his fingers up her arm, over her shoulder and up her cheekbone before finally putting a strand of loose hair behind her ear. His eyes were following his every movement, fixed on anything but her eyes.

"All I know is that I can't stop touching you. It's like this itch I can't get rid of ever since we started doing it again tonight." He paused, but his fingers were still tracing the lines of her face. "Do you remember the other time?"

Donna raised her brows. "That's a tough one to forget."

A small laugh escaped his lips. "Right. Stupid question, sorry. I think I never told you that I didn't mean to ask you to join me at Pearson Hardman the next day. I was planning on asking you out."

She frowned. "What?"

He twirled another strand of her hair around his index finger, still avoiding her eyes. "Yeah. I had this idea of just going for it, you know. See where it would lead us. But then, when Jessica took me back, I panicked. I couldn't imagine my work days without you. And when we met after I realised the only thing worse than losing _this_ , and what we had that night, would be me screwing up as usual and losing you completely in the process. So, I decided that having you in my life professionally was still better than not having you in my life at all."

Donna's thoughts were swimming. "Harvey— "

"I wasn't ready for the commitment back then, Donna, and I think we both knew that. I think that's why you agreed to go with me in the first place. And while I wish I wouldn't have waited this long, I don't regret my decision. Because the thought of not having you in my life scares the shit out of me. And I don't know who I would've become if you hadn't been there with me every step of the way."

When he finally met her eyes with his own, it took her so off guard that she couldn't look away, no matter how near he suddenly was. "You know", she mumbled as he came even closer and now dropped his stare down to her lips. "For someone who claims to be bad with words, you're surely doing one hell of a job right now."

His quick grin disappeared the moment their lips met. It was deeper this time. Less nervous and more passionate, intended to make up for lost time.

"So", he said before kissing her again, "I know I'm twelve years late with this but— "

"Thirteen", she corrected him, stealing another kiss.

"Twelve and a half", he argued.

"Fine."

"Are you gonna let me finish my sentence now?"

"In a minute." She brought their mouths together again, her fingertips slowly travelling up and down his neck before resting somewhere between his jaw and chin. "Okay, now you can."

"I'm twelve and a half years late for this, but would you please go out on a date with me?"

Donna bit her lip, pretending to wage her options. "Well I think it's about _freaking_ time you asked, but do I really want to?"

"Donna", he whined. "Quit teasing so we can go to bed!"

She gave him a smirk. "A bit forward, aren't we?"

"I can ask politely if that's what will do the trick." He took a step back and dramatically offered her his hand. "Donna, will you please follow me into the bedroom?"

"That's a rather unconventional date, don't you think?"

"You can keep the jersey on."

A wide grin played around Donna's lips. "I always knew you had a football kink."

.

.

 _ **Four years later**_

.

"I'm not wearing that!"

"Aww, but you look so pretty in red."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "No chance."

Harvey tried to straighten her hair. "Look, it matches your hair colour."

She raised her brows, escaping his hand. "I like the green one better."

He tried to keep his voice light. "Come on, pumpkin! You wanna be on the winning side, don't you?"

The little girl eyed him suspiciously. "How do you know Spain will win?"

"Because it's daddy's team, and daddy's team is always the best team there is." He scooted closer to her, dangling the small jersey in front of her curious eyes. "Please", he pouted. "For me?"

A sudden realisation seemed to hit her. "Mommy said you would try to manipalate— ", she stumbled over the long word and tried again, "manipulate me. But I am smarter."

And with that, she grabbed her Ireland kit from the bed and stuck out her tongue.

Harvey sighed. "How are you three years old and I already don't stand a chance against you?"

Amanda squeaked when he picked her up, screaming at him to let her down but laughing at the same time. Harvey carried her into the living room, which was of course decorated in green and orange colours (he had lost that battle, as well), where they were greeted by a smirking Donna.

"Told you it wouldn't work", Donna said, voice dripping with fake sweetness. "I don't know what you expected, you're wearing your _Mr. Paulsen_ jersey! That's all she needs to know about who's in charge here."

Harvey opened his mouth to answer but was saved from further humiliation by the doorbell ringing.

Amanda let out another gasp.

"Would you mind getting that?", Donna asked her daughter, who was already running towards the door.

Harvey chuckled, pulling Donna closer. "Can you believe it's been four years?"

"3 years and 11 months", she automatically corrected him.

He rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean."

"I do." She gave him a quick peck on the lips. "I'm just happy Amanda gets to experience her first world cup as one that her team is participating in."

"Ireland is not _her_ team, yet. She's far too young to make a permanent choice."

Donna moved her head towards the little girl that came running back around the corner, accompanied by Mike, Rachel, their little son, Jessica and Louis. "Somehow I doubt that."

Amanda had just shown them the back of her jersey, which had her name written on it, and she was bursting with pride. "Ireland is going to win the world cup", she announced, already dragging Jessica and Mike closer to the TV.

"You wanna bet on it, little girl?", Mike grinned.

"No betting for little girls", Harvey barked from somewhere behind them.

"I'm _not_ a little girl", Amanda fired back, deeply offended. "I have my own jersey. It has my _name_ on it." She showed Mike the back of her shirt again, to make sure he saw it.

"You are so right about that. You're a big girl and big girls are allowed to bet. So, what do you wanna bet on?"

"If I win, you owe me 1000 bags of gummy bears." She widened her arms to demonstrate it while she said it. Mike pretended to think about it for a few seconds. Then, he held out his hand. "Deal. Let's shake on it."

Amanda took his hand and shook it, giving him a firm nod that made him laugh.

"Hey", Harvey interrupted them sharply. "I said no bets."

"Give me a break", Mike scoffed. "Who knows where you and Donna would be today if we wouldn't have bet on the last world cup winner."

"Shut up, Mike."

"You know what?", Mike said conspiratorially, moving closer to the little girl and ignoring his friend, "Mommy and Daddy probably still wouldn't be together if Daddy's team wouldn't've _sucked_ four years ago."

"That's true", Jessica threw in, walking past them and sitting down on one of the sofas to admire the small bundle in Rachel's arms.

"Stop feeding her this bullshit", Harvey hissed.

Amanda's eyes widened. "Daddy just said a bad word."

"That is very observant, and in fact true." Mike's face lit up gleefully. "Do you remember what happens if one of us says a bad word during this world cup?"

Amanda bit her lip, concentrating. "You have to drink the grown-up-juice."

"Correct!" Mike tousled her hair and turned to face Harvey. "Smart little girl you have there."

"I hate you."

"You do, but not as much as you hate this." Louis pushed a shot of vodka in his hand. Harvey mouthed a _fuck you_ in his and Mike's reaction before downing the liquid with a pained expression on his face.

"Guys, the game's starting", Donna called from in front of the TV. Amanda ran over to her and climbed on her lap. "I'm so excited", she exclaimed, clapping her hands.

"I know you are", Donna whispered in her ear, kissing the back of her daughter's head. "Do you wanna know a secret?"

Amanda nodded.

"So am I."

"Do you think Ireland will win the game today?"

"I _know_ they will win today", Donna replied just as Harvey settled down next to her, intertwining their hands.

Amanda let out a relieved sigh. "Good."

Harvey shot her an amused glance. "Good?", he repeated.

His daughter nodded. "If mommy says _I know,_ she is always right."

Harvey chuckled, sharing a look with Donna. "That she is, pumpkin. That she is."

.

* * *

 _ **and there you have it, fluff on top of fluff on top of fluff. I still tried to let darvey get together in an organic, non-cheesy way, kind of falling into it but nevertheless still having the urge to run away because that's what they've been doing for so long. also, the dancing scene happened out of nowhere because I felt like writing it while listening to the song.**_

 _ **I literally wrote "I'm gonna bring amanda into this because I can :)" down in my notes when I first structured the fic and had the idea for a flash forward to the next world cup, and I hope it was a nice little surprise, given that I normally don't see darvey as parents (except in fics, so I had fun playing around with the thought of it).**_

 _ **thank you guys so much for supporting this fic, inspiring me to write it and reviewing it to keep me going. it was a nice little change from my usual, way darker stories, and it proved to be a much bigger struggle than I thought it would. so it really means a lot to me that it was so well received.**_

 _ **and now, I'll go back to my vamps and all the angst and tears I have waiting for me there. x**_


End file.
